A Charmed Future
by HarryPotter21
Summary: His Future was destoryed. Now Anakin has a chance to fix it but will he be able to?
1. Chapter 1

Then There Were Three

Wyatt dove out of the way nearly colliding with the ancient grandfather clock that had only recently been repaired for the umpteenth time. The energy ball soared passed his shoulder and the resulting explosion from the collision with the far wall washed over the group, spraying debris into the air. In the confusion Wyatt lost track of the demon and hoped that he pale faced beast had lost him. The air cleared ever so slightly and Wyatt spotted movement to his right. The blond haired male witch rolled out from behind the remnants of the couch. With an almost flippant gesture Wyatt used his power of molecular combustion. A deafening scream reverberated through the eighteen-year-old's ears causing him to cover them in mild pain. The grimlock somewhat recovered from the loss of his limb chucked another energy ball at the eldest heir to the Charmed Ones using the split second of distraction to shimmer out still dripped green ooze from its stump of an arm.

"Everyone alright?" Wyatt called out rising to his feet.

He brushed off the dust and surveyed the sea of destruction surrounding him. The better part of first floor of the Halliwell Manor was a mixture of debris, scorch marks, and slowly dying flames. He leaned against the grandfather clock which for once had not met its end during one of the demonic attacks and caught his breath. With a gentle wave of his hand he moved enough of the debris out of his way so that he could see around the corner. The scene of the entrance hall and the stairs mimicked that of the sun room and living room. His heart skipped a beat when his eyes reached the wall that bordered the stairs. The family portraits and candid pictures that once hung on the wall were no longer there. Instead there was a mixture of demon guts and scorch marks, the flames had obviously burned up the photographs. Looking at the wall sent him stumbling back memory lane to two years ago when the attacks had started all over again.

At the age of eighteen Wyatt Mathews Halliwell had been to more funerals for close family members than most people had family members. After the aftermath of the battle between Christy, Billie, and the Charmed Ones there had been ten years of peace in the magical world. But it had only been a lull in the storm while the demons regrouped around another powerful figure. Then on Wyatt's youngest sister's tenth birthday the battle started up all over again.

They luckily decided to have the birthday at the Manor instead of at P6, the restaurant that Piper had converted P3 into after the before of her fourth and final child. Also breaking from tradition it was a family-only get together. With Phoebe now living in New York running her own publishing company and Paige living in Austin, Texas, the family hardly got together besides for Christmas. Prudence had decided that she wanted it to be a birthday with just her family and that she and her friends would go to the mall the following day to spend all her birthday money. But the following day never came for Prue.

Just as Piper with magical help from Wyatt and Chris got all the food onto the extended dinning room table, five darklighters orbed in and caused havoc. The darklighters were only a distraction and before anyone really knew what was happening four other upper level demons shimmered in. One of them a rather attractive brunette turned into a gorgon like creature as she murdered Henry. Wyatt and Chris were able to vanquish another before he was able to reach Anakin, their younger brother. But no one could reach Prue in time and the blond haired assassin demon turned her into dust with a massive fire ball. A stray darklighter's arrow struck Henry Jr. in the heart and he died before Wyatt or Paige could heal him.

Then barely a month later Phoebe's family was attacked in New York. Wyatt, Chris, and Piper arrived just in time to watch the slaughter of Phoebe's three girls. They battled the demons and with tremendous effort were able to get the demons to retreat. No sooner had that happened than Chris received a distress call from Billie. Leaving their mom back to comfort their aunt and bottling up their own grief the two brothers answered Billie's call. They orbed into her apartment in Los Angeles. Wyatt brought up his powerful blue shield vanquishing four changeling demons with their own energy balls. Chris vanquished another two changeling demons by crushing their hearts with his telekinetic grip. But as they vanquish the small dwarf pitch white demons more shimmered in by the dozens. Whoever was in charge wanted Billie dead. The overwhelming numbers forced the brothers to retreat with Billie to the Manor.

But a battle was raging there as well. Anakin barely coming into his own Charmed powers was battling off a swarm of Drone demons, dumb humanoid brutes that had no real power asides for their ability to duplicate after being vanquished. Leo no longer possessing any powers of his own had resorted to using Excalibur to bat away energy balls. Emotions boiling close to the edge Wyatt erupted and with a massive wall of energy vanquished every single demon in the Manor. But the cost was great and Wyatt collapsed to unconsciousness. He was told later that it was then that the changeling demons found them and killed Billie before Anakin and Chris were able to vanquish them with a spell out of the Book of Shadows.

After the funerals and recovering from their grief the Charmed Ones did what they did best and went on a killing spree. They marched in to the Underworld and vanquished demons left right and center. The decimation in the Underworld must have been severe because it drew the new Source out of his hiding. A temporary cease fire was struck for both sides to nurse their wounds. Soon after that the three brothers Wyatt, Chris, Anakin, barely nine, took on the mantle and responsibility of the Charmed Ones. After a couple of months and no new attacks were made on the family the Halliwell family relaxed ever so slightly and allowed themselves to think that maybe the war was over. But it was not even close and on the anniversary of their children's murders Phoebe and Coop were killed by two powerful Harpy demons.

Paige's two and only daughters were the next to die this time not from demons but in a car accident. No longer able to take all the grief Paige moved as far away from San Francisco and cut all ties with the family. Even that did not save her however and word got back to Piper that Paige had met her end against a resurrected Balthazar. The once powerful Halliwell family had been reduced to Piper, Leo, and their remaining children.

Wyatt tore his eyes off the wall and turned around. "Mom?" Wyatt called out yet again. Still no one had stirred. "Dad? Chris? Annie?" Wyatt got more and more worried with each name. He closed his eyes trying to sense them but his whitelighter sensing had been sporadic at best of late, something to do with all the unresolved emotions boiling inside of himself. Finally a voice reached his ears and he looked over toward the sound.

"Owww!" Annie moaned, the first indication of life, "I think that wretched thing broke my leg."

Anakin Victor Halliwell was a younger version of Wyatt. He had the blond curly hair and the innocent face of the Twice Blessed One and their father. But he had Piper's hazel eyes and her powers. Anakin sat up and repositioned himself so that he could lean against the remainder of the table the sat at the bottom of the stairs. Anakin looked over toward Wyatt and gave a subtle smile. Wyatt seeing that his younger brother was not seriously hurt moved in the opposite direction searching for his mother. He had seen his mom take a nasty blow from an athame toward the end of the battle.

"Mom?" He cried out and his knees nearly buckled when he saw her. Lying sprawled at the opposite end of the living room was the unmoving body of the Piper Halliwell. Wyatt not wasting anymore time bent down and carefully rolled Piper over and saw the almost black pool of blood. Wyatt's heart stopped and he struggled to draw in a single breath. Forcing himself to keep working he blinked blinding tears out of his eyes and slowly pulled out the emerald handled athame. Chucking the dagger aside Wyatt raised his hands over his mother's wound. His palms started to glow and the glow intensified as Wyatt struggled to keep his hands steady. Slowly the wound started to heal and after another few minutes Piper took a gasping breath. Wyatt dropped his hand and wrapped his arms tightly around Piper. Piper returned the hug but eventually moved on to more pressing matters.

"What about…" Piper started but stopped when she saw the destruction that used to be her living room. "Wyatt where are you brothers?"

Wyatt looked at his mother and blinked trying to process the question. He had completely forgotten about the rest of his family in that brief instant of absolute horror. "Annie has a broken leg and Chris and Dad still have not moved."

Piper started to push herself up but Wyatt pressed a gentle hand against her shoulder. "You lost a lot of blood, Mom." He stood up and blasted his way toward the last place he had seen Chris.

"Chris?" Chris's body lay on a fairly empty part of the sun room's floor. The sole brown haired Charmed One stirred and groaned. "You alright?" Wyatt asked and blasted the last bit of debris out of his way.

Chris slowly rolled over to reveal a deep cut in his upper thigh. "I'll live – I think."

Wyatt looked at the wound and started to move toward his brother. "You need to be healed," he stated in concern.

"No," Chris said evenly reinforcing the command with a shake of his head. He placed a firm hand on the wound and grimaced as he applied pressure. "Go check the others first. I'll be fine."

Wyatt seeing no point in arguing and loosing precious time walked back into the living room and waded toward the kitchen. He smiled reassuringly at Annie on his way and Annie shot him a quick grin in return but the grin quickly became distorted by a grimace of pain. Wyatt ignoring his instinct to go help his baby brother turned back to the kitchen. Anakin's wound was not life threatening but Dad's could be, he reminded himself. He made it into the kitchen to see Leo lying in a large pool of blood. Again ignoring his own anguish Wyatt started to try and heal his father, kneeling in the blood The glowing came but the deep claw wounds across the man's back simply would not heal.

"No!" Wyatt hissed but his voice nonetheless trembled with grief.

"You _can't_ leave us!" Wyatt blinked back tears and shook his hand as if the motion would help. "You can't…" His voice got caught in his throat as he dissolved into silent sobs.

"Wy?" He heard his mother's worried call.

He broke off his crying and once again focused his attention on his father. He raised his hands determinedly over the wounds and willed the wounds to heal. He placed every ounce of love he had for the man behind the spell but it would not work. Gasping for breath he tried again this time placing his hand directly on the wounds. His eyes glowed unnaturally and he felt his skin cells on his palm bubble and burst and the surge of energy. Eventually he had to relent or risk unconsciousness. He slammed his bloodied fists onto his father's back in frustration and sorrow.

"Dad – no – please God no." Wyatt said choking back tears.

"There is no god to help you, Wyatt."

Wyatt looked up at a man with dark green eyes and pitch black hair. "Who the hell are you?" He stated angrily.

"I am one of the Angels of Death," the man stated apathetically. "I am here for," the man turned his green eyes to Leo's body, "your father's soul."

"You can't have HIM!" screamed Wyatt and flexing his fingers.

The man remained standing with a calm expression on his face as the attack went straight through him and the kitchen counter behind him exploded. "You cannot stop the inevitable, Wyatt." Death said looking pitifully at the teenage boy. Death snapped his finger and Leo's ghost rose out of the dead body and looked around the room. "Anymore than you can turn back _time_."

Wyatt ignored Death and focused his red eyes on his father's ghost.

"Dad," Wyatt cried. "Fight it Dad!"

"Wy," Leo's clam voice broke through the silence. "I cannot do that. You know I cannot. It is my time."

"Please!" Wyatt yelled breaking down. "What about Mom...what about us?"

"She will understand eventually, you all will." Leo said sadly. "Tell her I love her. And I love you too, my son. But there is nothing more you can do for me."

Death focused his emotionless orb on Wyatt. "Grieve for your father. And then move on. Don't," Death threatened, "and risk loosing more than just you own life." The room turned black and white for an instant and Death along with Leo's ghost were gone.

"Wyatt?" Piper's concerned voice came from the entrance of the kitchen. Wyatt turned around slowly and in doing so showed the full picture of the situation to Piper.

"Oh my God! Leo…" Her voice broke.

"Mom?" Anakin's worried voice carried into the kitchen.

Piper's face grew more ashen at the sound of Anakin's soft voice. She started to turn around; he did not need to see his father like this. But she heard the tell-tale sounds of someone orbing. She looked back over her should to see Leo's bloodied body lying on the kitchen floor, alone. Trusting Wyatt of being capable of handling the situation she turned her attention to Leo. With a quiet sob she collapsed to her knees just inside the kitchen, not able to make it all the way to Leo.

Outside by the stair case Wyatt orbed back in impeading Anakin's difficult progress to the kitchen. Anakin took one look and the swollen eyes of his usually impervious older brother and swallowed a lump in his own throat.

Cautiously he voiced his concern. "What's going on, Wy? What's wrong with Dad?"

Wyatt tears once again welling up, placed a comforting hand on Anakin's should and looked the youngest Halliwell dead in the eyes. In barely more than a whisper Wyatt confirmed Anakin's worst fears. "He's dead, Annie."

"What!" Anakin's face paled and his strength left him. He would have collapsed had Wyatt not pulled him into a tight comforting hug. "But…" His voiced disappeared and was replaced with uncontrollable sobs.

Wyatt knowing he had to be strong for his brother steeled his own emotions and held Anakin close to his chest.

Still in a soft whisper Wyatt continued, "I saw Death take him away there is nothing more we can do." This took all the energy out of the older blond Halliwell.

The two brothers slid to the floor and cried in hollow silence. A couple of minutes passed and sounds of movement reached Wyatt's ears. At first he tensed up believing it to be the grimlock come to finish them off but then he remembered that Chris was still in the Manor. He struggled to his feet and after ruffling up Anakin's hair in brotherly comfort he headed for the sun room. He reached the sun room to see Chris leaning against the wall struggling to stay up right with his wounded thigh.

"Dad?" Chris asked struggling to control his voice. "We've lost Dad as well."

Wyatt nodded and silently moved over to Chris. The blond offered his shoulder as a support which Chris accepted gratefully. Once Wyatt was sure Chris was fairly stable he released his hold on the brown haired witch to heal the thigh wound. After a second of holding his glowing hand over the wound it was mended. Chris let go of Wyatt and gingerly tested his healed leg. Slowly the two made their way back to Anakin who was still sitting in the exact same position Wyatt had left him. Wyatt sat down heavily next to Anakin and wrapped his arm around the shaking young boy.

Chris ran his hand through his brown hair and shakily let out a long sigh. "But how?" Chris finally asked. "He got out of their way. Why go after him?"

Wyatt, thankful for the chance to get his mind at least partially off the fact that his father was dead, frowned. "When do these damn attacks ever make sense?"

Chris nodded and sunk to the floor. "But they usually have had a purpose. He posed no threat to them. He was a mortal!"

"But he is our father," Anakin said sorrow still ever present in his voice. "That is enough to make him a target."

"Make us lose focus," Wyatt stated leaning his head against his knees trying desperately not to throw up.

Chris shuffled his feet and sniffed. "Still it seems like such a petty thing to take someone's life for."

Piper appeared in the door way with swollen red eyes and bloodied hands. "Lets get this all cleaned up." She said shakily. "Someone might have phoned the police and we do not need another tragedy today."

All three boys looked up at their mother in confusion. They had just lost their father and she wanted them to clean up? Wyatt not precisely caring to argue or about the rules that came with magic waved his hand flippantly over his head. The entire placed glowed a faint blue as billions of tiny blue orbs replaced the destruction that was the house. The orbs moved at lightning speed and slowly died away to reveal a perfectly clear and reconstructed Manor. The only thing remaining of the battle was Leo's body which still lay on the cold kitchen floor minus the pool of blood.

"Wyatt," Piper started to admonish but she simply was too emotionally drained to care enough about personal gain.

"What about Dad?" Anakin asked.

He got up and limped over to his mother who enveloped him in a hug. The young teen got a glimpse of his dad and the emotions welled up inside of him once again. The pain was there and the sorrow but they were now joined but the need for revenge and it was on this new emotion that he concentrated on.

"How do we explain his death?" Anakin asked more firmly.

"Don't worry about that, sweetie," Piper said softly her maternal instincts overcoming her own grief. "I'll deal with that. All I need you and your brothers to do is…"

The doorbell interrupted Piper. All four heads turned to the front door were a silhouette of a person could be seen through the stained glass. The door bell rung once again and the muffled voice of the police officer reached their ears. Piper let go of Anakin and looked at her three sons. "Why don't you three go up stairs? I'll deal with this."

Wyatt and Chris were about to protest but a stern look from Piper stopped them in their tracks. Taking Anakin's hand the three boys orbs out. Once Piper heard their footsteps up stairs she started toward the door. She brushed away her tears and opened the door.

"Ma'am one of your neighbors," the young uniformed officer paused at the sight of Piper. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

Piper nodded and shakily answered. "There was an accident officer. My – my – my husband…"

"Ma'am," the officer stated obviously unsure on how to handle the situation, "can you show me the – err – crime scene?"

Piper nodded and opened the door wide enough for the officer to step through. She closed the door and led the way to the kitchen. Upon entering the kitchen she waved her hand slightly and Leo's body glowed for all of a second. Suddenly the claw marks from the harpy that had obviously killed Leo were no longer present. Instead Leo was laying face up with a knife in the chest. The kitchen counters became cluttered with all the pieces necessary to cook a decent meal. Hating herself for it Piper turned to face the officer.

"Why did no one phone 9-1-1?" The officer questioned after glancing over the scene.

Piper hesitated. "9-1-1?"

The officer nodded stepping out of the kitchen and radioing in the crime scene. "Yes, usually most people call in their emergency – especially one like this."

Piper let out a deep sigh and she blinked back tears. She hated this three way deception they had to play. "Well it all happened so fast and then I was too worried about my kids seeing their father like this and…"

The officer held up his hand. "Ok, ma'am. Now can you tell exactly what happened? Your neighbors complained of a lot of loud crashes and screams."

Piper shrugged. "No idea why." She forced her emotions down as the thought of Leo being dead came charging back at her. "My husband is rather clumsy in the kitchen so that could explain the noises."

"You do not seem all that upset by the departure of your husband ma'am."

"Oh," Piper said while letting out a heavily sigh, "I guess I'm in shock. I've been with Leo for almost twenty-one years. The fact that he is gone hasn't quite hit me yet. I've lost a lot of family in the recent passed," she sniffed her emotions really starting to get the better of her. "It is just – too much…" She broke down.

"Mom?" Anakin asked from the stairs.

Piper turned around, "Annie? I thought…"

"I know," Anakin came all the way down the stairs, "but…" His eyes focused on the police officer and he felt the overpowering sensation of a premonition.

_He saw himself falling down the stairs and his mother rushing to his aid. Then an energy ball crashed into his chest and he saw no more._

Anakin came back to reality to the weightless sensation of falling before his head collided painfully with the stair case. He rolled the rest of the way suffering more injuries but the scene of the premonition over took any sense of throbbing he was feeling. Then his tumbling came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the stairs. He raised his hand and Piper was running toward him. And behind her the uniformed man rose slowly to his feet. Without thinking, without even breathing Anakin closed his eyes and heard the sound of crashing. He opened up his blue orbs to see his mother now hovering over him.

"Mom!" Anakin yelled despite the pain. But it was too late and a second later the energy ball intended for him hit the matriarch of the Halliwell family square in the back.

Piper dropped to the floor her brown eyes glazing over. Anakin yelled and flexed his fingers there were screams and then nothing, complete utter silence. Anakin did not hear anything else but his own sobbing. He felt himself being pulled away from Piper's lifeless body and then being embraced in the strong arms of Chris. And he knew that the Halliwell line had officially lost their battle against good.


	2. Lucien

Lucien

WARNING! This chapter contains harsh language and an unwanted sexual encounter. You are warned!

It was not like I intended to ever become involved with him: it just sort of happened. One day, we were complete and utter strangers. I mean, we went to same school and the school was fairly small so you kind of recognized everyone, but still. He and I ran in different social circles. He was the captain of every school sport and I was the king of the nerds, not really but you get the picture. Then my entire life was turned upside down one day.

I found this book in the basement of my family's pathetically small condo. The book was covered with mold and had it not glowed—and yes, I do mean glowed—I would have never touched the thing. Even after it radiated at a faint green hue, I was wary of it. But I was curious, and after putting on some heavy-duty gloves and obtaining one of my brother's prized baseball bats, I carefully pulled the giant novel out from under the boxes piled on top of it.

I carefully wiped away the grime and grit from the cover to discover a beautifully embroidered brown leather cover. The front pattern was of a massive oak tree standing alone on a rolling hill. The sky was covered in stars that shone with the lime green color that first caught my eye. But what mostly caught my eye was the three silver sevens laying in a triangle on the right had corner of the oak tree. I have always wondered ever since about why the number seven, but far be it for me to question the instincts of my ancestors.

The second my right hand touched the front cover to open the book gusting wind filled the basement, kicking up dust and small objects swirling them into a miniature tornado. I removed my hand but the dangerous natural disaster only increased in its ferocity. For some reason beyond my explanation, I turned my attention to the book and flipped it open. The first page was a drawing of the front cover and I turned the page to the next. On this page, in perfect calligraphy red was a long passage in Latin. But the first line was in plain English and looked to have been written in as an afterthought.

_For the generations to come: Read forth and receive thy heritage._

I nearly dropped the book as the Latin words melted together and reformed into English words written in a script similar to the handwriting on the sole birthday card I possess from my real mother.

_Hear the words of the witches,_

_The secrets we hid in the night._

_The ancients of beyond are sought,_

_The great works of MAGIC is caught._

_In this night and on this hour,_

_I call upon those ancient powers._

_I want the power,_

_Give me your power._

I gasped at the incantation and was ready to burn the book then and there. WITCHCRAFT! But then a hammer slammed into the wall behind me and I was reminded of the growing windstorm inches away. Shoving aside my dislikes and second thoughts I looked down at the book and in a firm voice I never knew I possessed, I read aloud the incantation. And to my astonishment, nothing happened, _nothing_.

"Now what?" I freaked.

Then suddenly, I felt my right hand burn as if a white-hot iron brand was pressed in my palm. I looked down and saw the red wound of the three sevens scaring the part of my palm that connected my hand to my thumb. The sevens glowed golden and soothing warmth spread throughout my whole body. The scar receded, leaving behind only the faintest impression of its existence.

I lifted my hand out in front of me and a swirling gust of wind erupted from it. The squall crashed into the tornado and the tornado disappeared, dropping the tools, heirlooms, and other junk on the floor with such a cacophony that it drew the attention of my stepbrother.

I hated my stepbrother, I really did. My dad was great and my step-mom was bearable to be around but Eric…don't even get me started. But this is not about them or even me for that matter.

But before I get to the point, let me properly introduce myself. I am Lucien Nicholas Jonas, a born and raised San Franciscan. I have curly dark brown, some say black, hair and brown eyes. As my last name suggests, I am of Hispanic origin and my skin reflects that fact. I have been complemented as having perfectly white, straight teeth and—well, that is not entirely true, but you get the picture. I have to wear contacts in order to see practically anything, but at least it is just contacts and not glasses! But enough description, let's move on to history.

So the years went by and I entered middle school; that was where I first met Anakin Halliwell, the Greek god amongst us common slugs. And no, I am not exaggerating. He was called that in our yearbook! The only people who came close to comparing with him were his two older brothers Christopher and Wyatt. Those three were capable of getting anyone to do anything for them.

But Anakin, he was the one who was on my mind the most. And it was not in a stalker, or sensual manner, it was simply a normal fascination…er, ok, off the subject, kind of. Anyways, as I said we lived in different social circles. I doubt he ever knew I existed until the fateful day in fact that is a fact. Well, at least in the sense that he never knew my name or that I was an elemental.

I had heard that the Halliwell family had had some rotten luck. The entire extended family had died within a year and Prudence was also counted among the dead. As expected, the three brothers were hardly ever at school or at least Anakin was never at our school. The elder two had a class with my stepmother and were hardly ever in her class, so I surmise they did not go to school much either.

Then on a Friday during lunchtime, my worst fears came to be. A demon, I had been reading my magic book, appeared in the middle of the cafeteria and started hurtling fire balls at people. This was a horrible demon with a blood red face and black markings reminding me vividly of Darth Maul. At first the idiots, by that I mean my fellow students, thought it was some elaborate prank. Some of them even cheered the demon on. That was until they realized that the people hit by those fireballs were actually gravely injured. All in all, it was a literal bloody mess.

Now I have not had much practice with my skills aside for the small personal gain spells I performed, which almost always backfired. I stood up and got the demon's attention by jumping up and down and calling it derogatory names. The demon turned to face me with a sneer plastered on its red and black face. With a flick of my wrist I had a fireball resting in the palm of my hand. The demon snarled like some type of wild animal and leapt at me. I dove out of the way, unfortunately crashing into a nearby lunch table, my fireball leaving a nasty scorch mark on said table. The demon was up on its feet and charging toward me and without thinking, I shoved my head out in front of me. A gust of wind whipped the demon off its feet and gave me time to conjure another fireball. This time, I took careful aim and raised my hand back when blue lights appeared between the demon and me.

Wyatt, Chris, and Anakin materialized out of the blue orbs. Chris and Anakin easily vanquished the upper level demon. They moved on to dealing with the wounded and using some substance out of a brown pouch on those still conscious. Wyatt, on the other hand, came after me. I backed up as much as I possibly could but Wyatt did not relent his steady progress. He conjured energy balls and chucked them at me and I dodged them as best I could or used my control over the air to deflect the attacks. Finally, pressed against the cold blue-green tiles that covered the lower part of the wall in the cafeteria, I stood my ground. With nothing left to do, I conjured up another fireball, intent on defending myself. And boy, did I not know what I got myself into.

Wyatt sent me flying, crashing through the singed doors at the entrance of the cafeteria. After slamming into the metal lockers, I scrambled to my feet and saw the massive dent in the shape of my head. Still slightly dazed, I rubbed the growing bump on my head and watched in horror as Wyatt strode determinedly through the wooden doors. Waving my hand roughly through the air, I conjured what I'd hoped was a shield of air. Wyatt raised his right hand and his fingers glowed and turned into talons. With two swift slashes Wyatt broke clear through my barrier. I conjured a fireball but Wyatt made a fist with his hand. I dropped the attack in order to clutch at my throat as Wyatt telekinetically strangled me.

Despite lacking air, I struggled yet again to explain everything to the Halliwell but Wyatt just sneered ad yelled something about demonic scum. Then my _savior_ burst through the doors. Anakin somehow got Wyatt to release me from the suffocating hold.

"Who are you?" Anakin questioned, still keeping a wary eye on his brother.

"I am Lucien Jonas," I replied, still catching my breath. "And I'm not what you think I am."

"And what exactly are you then?" Wyatt asked in an angry voice. "Because you sure look like a demon."

"Wyatt!" Anakin admonished. The younger blonde's blue eyes appeared to cut Wyatt, who pouted.

"I am an elemental," I declared proudly returning my gaze to Anakin. "Or at least that is what my book says I am."

"An elemental?" Anakin frowned looking up at Wyatt who gave up the childish pose and shrugged.

Chris walked through the doors pocketing the small brown satchel. "What the hell is he still doing alive?"

"Anakin recognized him," Wyatt stated mockingly and batted his eyes. I struggled not to laugh.

Anakin suck out his tongue, "And you need to get over that fact, weirdo."

"This from the fa—" Wyatt let out a gasp as Anakin punched him hard in the stomach. Wyatt keeled over in pain.

Anakin, still glaring hatred at his brother, took several calming breaths. "Don't you _ever_ call me that!" He all but spat.

"Umm – can I go?" I questioned, feeling out of place and extremely awkward.

Chris looked down at me. "If Annie thinks you're trustworthy that is good enough for me. I'm—"

"I know," I stated quickly. "Christopher Halliwell."

"Err," Chris ran a hand through his messy dark brown hair, "ok!"

"Oh," I stumbled over the single syllable, "sorry that is kind of weird. It's just that you're kind of known by everyone at school."

Chris nodded and offered a hand to help me to my feet. With a smile he continued, "Care to explain to me how did you had a fireball in your hand when we arrived if you are not a demon?"

"I'm an elemental," I explained again with a small smile on my face. "I can control the four elements, although that is one of the first times I've used fire without causing minor damage to myself and the object around me." I was about to continue but a sudden movement caused me to fall silent.

Anakin spun around to look at Chris, "Tell mom I'm not going to be home until dinner."

Chris frowned, seemingly having forgotten me. "Why?" He looked over at Wyatt who was twiddling his thumbs innocently.

"I need to get away from the oaf," Anakin pointed at Wyatt. Then in a more calm and relaxed tone, "And besides, I wouldn't mind getting to know our new friend a bit more."

Wyatt came to join the circle being careful to stay as far away from Anakin as possible. "Still think you should tell Mom personally. You know she hates any of us disappearing without telling her."

"Only because you go demon hunting in the middle of the night," Anakin snapped and shot such an acid glare at the Twice-Blessed I half expected his shield to jump up.

"But still," Chris instated himself physically between the two feuding brothers, "Mom might prefer it if you came home first. Lucien can join us if he wants to."

All three pairs of eyes turned on me and I'm sure my ears reddened. I always hated being the center of attention. "Um – I'll have to check with my parents first." Then as a second thought, "What about school?" I questioned.

Chris shrugged. "So many people are going to be feeling sick, classes will probably be canceled."

"But," I started but the three brothers were no longer listening. They all had this dazed, sort of distant glint in their eyes.

Anakin turned back to look at me. "Sorry, our Dad just called us. So – you coming?"

I glanced at the cafeteria's blue-green doors and smiled inwardly. "Sure, just need to make a call."

"Later," Wyatt whispered, taking my shoulder a bit more forcefully than was necessary. "You can use our phone back at the Manor."

A second later I was staring at the insides of a beautifully kept Victorian manor. The room was a bedroom and obviously in use as it was not completely void of mess. But that hardly concerned me. Still a bit wobbly on my feet after my first orbing experience, I reached out and caught myself on Anakin's shoulder. Anakin smiled and I smiled back and quickly released his shoulder. "Sorry," I muttered.

"No problem," Anakin stated. "You did better than most. The first time I orbed I threw up all over Wyatt's new dress shirt. He nearly blew me up."

I was about to respond when a man in his early fifties, by my guess, with graying blond hair, entered the small bedroom. His bright blue eyes settled on me; his smile morphed into a frown.

"Dad," Anakin jumped in, "this is Lucien Jonas. He is a friend from school."

Leo still did not look all that impressed. "Welcome to our home, Lucien." His forced smile disappeared as his eyes returned to his youngest son, "Isn't school still in session?"

"Yes," Anakin started timidly, not meeting his father's gaze.

"Then what is he…" Leo question but was silenced by a yelp from the kitchen. "Piper?"

"I'm fine," came Piper's muffled voice, "just a nick."

Leo turned back to face Anakin but by this time Anakin had regained his poise. Before Leo could put in a word edgewise Anakin jumped in to an explanation. "I know, Dad, alright? School's important and all that gibberish."

"It's not…" Leo started half-heartedly.

"DAD!" Anakin interrupted Leo. "I realize the freaking importance of school alright? But what I am trying to say is Lucien is an _elemental_." I still caught the hint of confusion mixed with veiled awe in his tone and did my best not to smile.

Leo who looked ready to reprimand Anakin on his poor word choices but instead his expression became dumbfounded. "An elemental?"

"Yes, sir," I answered feeling stupid for having Anakin fighting this battle. "I think my mom was one as well."

"Your mother?" Leo frowned and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence. "Brown hair? Green eyes?"

"Yes," I frowned. "Did you know her?"

Leo looked at me calculatingly. "She was one of my charges. I did not realize she had a family."

"Some whitelighter you are." Wyatt teased.

Leo shot the blond a reprimanding look. "She died from breast cancer."

I nodded. "Two years after having me."

"But then you should not have your powers," Leo stated. "I mean, you're not old enough to have started basic training if you actually had a master."

"Master?" Wyatt questioned. "Dad?"

"Elementals, because they are so powerful and because their powers are so dangerous, have an elder elemental who trains them. But that training only starts after they turn sixteen." Leo paused. "You're twelve?"

"In two weeks sir," I answered. "But," I pressed, "I have had my powers since I was eight."

"Four years already!" Leo's eyes grew wide in amazement. . . .

But that is enough of my first encounter with the Halliwell clan. After that day, Wyatt eventually warmed up to me and even took me under his wing. Wyatt, while not being an elemental, was a powerful enough witch to control my powers should they have ever grown beyond my control as we practiced. Chris, Anakin, and I would hang out as much as was possible. Life was wonderful, perfect, peaceful, but eventually my friendship with the Halliwells reached my stepbrother and he put me through hell.

"So my little puny brother is a faggot," a black haired boy with a leather spike collar shouted.

"Stepbrother!" I yelled straight back pushing him out of my way.

He grabbed my shoulder in a painful iron grip. "Not so fast, Lucien. If you're going out tonight with that boyfriend of yours, I'd be a terrible older brother if I didn't show you the right way to please someone. Now STRIP!"

Careful to not let my anger or fear get the better of me, I ripped my shoulder out of his grip. "Get over yourself, whore!"

Suddenly his usually pale complexion turned beet red and a fist found my nose. I twisted from the force of the punch and the side of my head smashed into the side of my computer cabinet. And I soon felt warm sticky blood crawling down the side of my face. But that was not the end of it. His iron-toed black leather boot crashed into my exposed stomach with enough force that I lost my breath. He kicked me again and again until I was coughing up blood.

"Now strip, _brother_." He drawled.

"Screw you." I coughed.

"Suit yourself." he dangerously whispered.

I felt his hand grab out of my shirt and with little effort he ripped it off me. Buttons flew everywhere. His calloused rough hands touched my naked skin and I cringed, remembering all the times before. Then his hand was inside my pants pulling them down and I heard the sound of his zip being opened.

"NO!" I yelled and something hot sprang off my palm.

"_FIRE!"_ my brother yelled and started rolling on the floor.

Seconds later, his mother was in the room beating out the fire. Screaming and yelling for help all the while. Eventually the fire obviously was beaten out of existence and the sounds of frantic desperation died down.

"You ok, sweetie?" she asked my brother, her voice horse from the shouting.

"He started it!" my brother shrieked in between sobs and moans of indescribable pain.

I struggled to sit up and see what exactly happened. My room was a mess due to his frantic efforts to put himself out. I saw where the fire started and almost laughed at the irony.

"Lucien?" She asked in an accusing tone.

"Mom," I was still struggling to breathe. "I need to go to the…" Everything went black.

I woke up to see my father and Anakin sitting next to me in a very brightly lit hospital room. "Hey," I whispered.

"Lucien!" they both exclaimed.

My dad was the first to reach me and he grabbed my hand and I frowned at the tears in his eyes. "How long?"

"What?" I asked confused.

"How long have you had your mother's gifts?" He clarified.

"Don't you think you should be asking what he was doing naked with his brother—?"

My dad rounded on Anakin. "I WILL Get to that."

"Dad," I sighed, "don't."

"Don't what?" He asked, obviously still annoyed.

"Fight." I forced out. "Don't fight."

"Are you comfortable?" Anakin asked. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm sore, is all," I said with a smile. "As you your question: four years, Dad."

"Four years!" my dad exclaimed. "Why…"

"Because," I answered the unfinished question, "I never felt the need to. I remember the way you and mom used to fight about some big secret. I was young but still."

"How long has he abused you?" Anakin questioned, interrupting the conversation. He was very defensive and protective.

"It's nothing," I muttered turning away from both of them.

"It is obviously something," Anakin argued. "You burnt his…well, you know, so badly they had to amputate it."

There was a tapping on the glass. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was told he was awake."

I groaned when I saw the owner of the voice was a police officer.

"My son is still—" my Dad started.

"I understand, but I need his statement." The officer insisted.

And so I put my family through hell over the next year as I took my brother to court for raping me. My parents divorced, not that I was terribly sad about that. Eventually, my brother killed himself the day before they were about to pass sentence on him. The verdict came back not guilty. The prosecutor said it was probably due to the fact that there was no evidence besides my testimony. When I asked him about the incident, he said that probably worked in his favor.

"I mean, who can be angry against a young man who lost his manhood forever?"

I came very close to losing it then and there but I was able to control my rage until that night. That night I joined Wyatt in his escapade in the Underworld. I vanquished entire droves of demons with a single thought. I think it freaked Wyatt out because he suggested I go see a therapist.

But that was in the past. Today, I was watching the news when the Halliwell Manor came on to the screen.

"…_And in yet another unexplainable set of murders involving the residents of this house…Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt died yesterday…leaving police absolutely confused as to whom committed the murders._"

I switched off the TV and closed my eyes. In a flash of icy coldness I was standing in front of Victor Bennett's apartment. I knocked on the door so hard a couple of his neighbors poked their heads out of their rooms. I just returned their glares and carried on rapping until the door swung open.

"Lucien!" Anakin's grandfather exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Is Anakin here?" I asked trying to peer into the apartment.

"Yes," the old man stated, "but he is resting. He did not sleep very well last night."

"Can I wait here until he wakes up?"

"Grandpa?" Anakin's groggy voice reached my ears. "Who's there?"

"It's Lucien," Victor said stepping aside with a sigh.

I ran up to Anakin and wrapped him in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry!"


	3. He Said, He Said

He Said, He Said

"Now what?" Chris questioned Wyatt as he dodged the rebounding door.

The two brothers were alone in the attic of the Manor after having a small and tearful funeral for their parents. Anakin was staying over with Victor, their grandfather, but the two older brothers could not bring themselves to leave the Manor. It was dumb and they both admitted it, but leaving the Manor in their minds would really mean that their parents were dead, that they were all alone in the world. Chris shook his head and continued toward his blond-haired brother.

Wyatt, without answering, waved his hand abruptly and five candles settled into equidistant positions from each other forming a pentagram. He gave each candle a death stare and they erupted into flames. "We, Chris," Wyatt said slowly, marching over to the Book of Shadows, "are going to summon Grams's arse down here."

Chris frowned and glanced down at the candles. "What?" Chris sidestepped another fire eruption as he made his own way to the Book. "Why? Why? Grams, really?"

"Because," Wyatt stated brashly, "I want a straight answer." He flipped erratically through the ancient pages.

"Answer?" Chris eyed Wyatt cautiously. "An answer to what exactly, Wy?"

Wyatt squeezed his eyelids shut, stopping his frustration. He opened his icy blue eyes and defiantly swallowed the lump in his throat. "You know _exactly_ what, Chris," He paused and corrected his angry tone. "I want to know why I was not allowed to save Dad. Why Mom had to die!"

"Wy," Chris whispered in what he thought was a comforting voice, "That isn't going to bring them back. You—"

"No!" Wyatt snarled, his anger flaring in the flames on the candles. "Don't finish that sentence, Chris." The older teen returned to searching through the pages in the green leather-bound Book, "I know it won't bring them back but it will—"

"Will what?" Chris interrupted, not liking the look of utter despair in Wyatt's eyes. "Wyatt, Grams probably won't even answer our summons. We need to be concentrating our efforts on who sent those demons after us last week, or at least on how to get the police off our back. Uncle Morris can't keep heading them off; he got out of that gig a long time ago."

Wyatt growled at the word 'police'. "They should know to just leave us alone. We just lost our parents for God's sake."

"I know, Wy," Chris said calmly. "But you screaming at them doesn't help the situation any."

Wyatt ignored Chris and turned back to the Book. "Grams, you had better get your ass down here or I'll go up there and drag it down here myself." The blond threatened uselessly. He looked over at Chris impatiently. "_Come on, _Chris!"

Chris sighed; he really could not argue against this. He wanted answers just as much as Wyatt but the goody two-shoes in him had to have some time in the limelight. He stepped over to Wyatt and placed his hand in Wyatt's firm grip. He took another deep breath and nodded. "Ready."

The two brothers stood behind the ancestral Book of Shadows and read the spell aloud in practiced unison:

"_Hear these words, _

_hear my cry,_

_Spirit from the other side. _

_Come to me,_

_I summon thee. _

_Cross now the great divide._"

There was a blast of ice-cold wind. It whipped through the attic with the power of a miniature tornado. It toppled over boxes and pieces of furniture but let the candles be. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and a shockwave crashed through the attic sending the few remaining pieces of furniture still standing flying everywhere. Wyatt threw up his shield protecting Chris and himself from being pelted by boxes and shards of wood. As the dust settled, Wyatt noticed the candles flickering still as if in defiance of everything that had just happened.

"Never had that happen before," Chris said, standing up and looking over the wreckage.

"Shush." Wyatt whispered, eyeing the candles.

The candles' flames slowly grew brighter and hotter. The wax literally boiled away leaving behind five floating flames. Then, one by one, the flames flickered and died, spewing smoke into air. The smoke slowly snaked together and twisted around each other until they became a single uniform mass of grey. A cackle issued out of the cloud and a man with glowing gold eyes stepped out of the smoke. Wyatt, reacting quickly, flexed his fingers in a similar manner as his mother had but the man's chest simply glowed the same eerie gold as his eyes.

"I'm surprised you don't recognize me, Wyatt." The man said in an amused, soft voice. His gold eyes settled uncomfortably on Wyatt. "After all, you created me," he paused glancing quickly at Chris, "Dad."

Wyatt glared at the stranger and positioned himself slightly in front of Chris. He brought his shield back up and watched the man walk toward the two brothers.

"Oh, relax." The stranger snapped, his eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm not here to destroy you quite yet." The man stopped centimeters from the crackling energy of Wyatt's shield. "In fact, I was actually hoping it was going to be Anakin that tried something as rash as summoning the dead after these latest events."

Chris frowned, stepping out from behind Wyatt. "What do you mean?"

The man's eyes settled on Chris, seeming to stare directly into the young man's soul. Chris gulped, cursing his inquisitiveness. "Your parents' deaths are not the only ones to have occurred in the magical community."

"And that's supposed to mean something to us?" Wyatt sneered.

The man nodded removing his stare from Chris. "It should." The man pressed a finger against Wyatt's shield causing Wyatt to sweat from the effort of keeping the shield up. "You are the Twice-Blessed One; it is your duty to care."

"Screw you!" Wyatt yelled. His shield flared with his anger and the stranger stumbled backwards, smiling.

"Wyatt!" snapped Chris. "Let's at least hear the man out." Chris caught the hint of gratitude creep across the man's face and he was not sure he liked it.

Wyatt huffed, but nevertheless brought his shield back under control. "I'm through with this destiny crap and _they_ already know it."

"I would not be so certain of that if I were you," the man stated softly. "At least, not if you want Anakin to remain among the living."

Chris's eyes flashed in anger. "Leave him out of this."

"But that is what all this is about," the man stated coldly. "Your parents' deaths, the vanquishing of almost a third of the elite demons, the deaths of other powerful witch lines, yes, even the deaths of the rest of your family. They are all connected to Anakin. They are all _his_ fault."

Wyatt flexed his wrists and this time his power broke through, shattering the golden-haired man into tiny shards of canary yellow glass. The shards crashed to the floor and vibrated monotonously until it sounded like a stampede was charging through the attic. A bright flash temporarily blinded to two witches and the man was standing in front of Wyatt with Excalibur pressed dangerously against the witch's taut neck.

"I really wish you would not do that, Dad." The man said with deadly calm before lowering the famous sword. "Here," the man threw the sword at Chris who caught it awkwardly. "Put it back in its stone before it can corrupt you as well."

Wyatt glared at the male and took a few cautious steps away from him and toward Chris. "Who are you?"

"I am your son," the stranger stated in anger. "As much as I wish that were not so."

"Why?" Chris asked softly.

The man's golden eyes once again fell on the teen witch. "Because, _Uncle_ Chris, he is a pathetic, power hungry, evil, vindictive murderer."

Chris jumped at the sound of Wyatt collapsing on the overturned couch.

"Impossible!" Wyatt muttered weakly, his skin deathly white.

"Very possible," the man sneered. "You go ballistic after the death of your father and the death of Grandma only compounds your thirst for revenge." The man looked up at Chris with a somewhat softened expression. "And revenge, Uncle, can easily be twisted by those of more sinister natures than our own." He paused and looked back at Wyatt, "Although even _they_ regret awakening the beast."

"I thought you said this was about Annie," Chris interrupted growing protective of Wyatt despite his own fear of the situation.

"It is," the man said giving Chris a short, evil smile. "Anakin Halliwell is the only one capable of calming Wyatt Halliwell's anger, and _they_ know it." He paused and walked over to an upturned box and righted it before sitting down. "So corrupt little, sweet Annie and they have the powerful Wyatt as their little domesticated pet."

"By killing our family?" Chris asked past the lump in his throat, feeling like he needed a seat as well, but refused to show any more weakness in front of the stranger.

"And half the magical community," the man snapped. "You are not the only ones to lose loved ones." The golden eyes softened and the man ran a scarred hand through his angelic curls. "You see Uncle, grief allows them to turn Anakin. All it took was a simple innocent promise. A promise that he would never have to feel grief again and little Annie became the Source's little b—er—plaything."

"So what are you doing here?" Wyatt asked half-heartedly. "Come to kill me before I go on this killing spree?"

"I wish," the man stated coldly. "Unfortunately, I cannot change the future that much. I came back solely to warn you about Lucien."

"Lucien?" Chris asked, his eyes widening in shock. "What does he have to do with all of this?"

The man took a deep breath and for the first time looked neither brother in the eyes. "He ordered Leo Wyatt's death."

"NO!" Wyatt shouted regaining some color in his cheeks. "He would never do something like that to Annie!" Wyatt pushed himself to his feet and went toe-to-toe with his "son." "Besides, Leo's been like a second father to him. Lucien—"

"SILENCE," commanded the man, his eyes glinting with suppressed anger. "While Leo was like a father to him, he was also the reason, in Lucien's mind, why his mother died," the man spoke acidly, meeting Wyatt's angry stare with one of his own. "Leo was her whitelighter—"

"And she died of natural causes," Chris jumped in trying to prevent another display of powers; the attic could not survive another round. "Lucien knows that."

"Would you accept that?" The man questioned glancing at Chris but gave the brown-haired man no time to answer the question. "And don't try to tell me that you would. Your actions shout the exact opposite, and you know it." The man turned back to face Wyatt. "It was Leo's time. Death told you that and Death cannot lie about that."

Chris frowned. "We've changed our times before, err—"

"Jonathan," The man filled in the blank automatically. He gave Wyatt a vindictive smile before continuing, "Jonathan Christopher Halliwell."

"Christopher?" Chris questioned then he smiled. "Aww, thanks, Wy."

"Don't thank that beast!" Jonathan snapped. "He did not name me. Your girlfriend did just before he murdered her."

"But you said—" Chris started.

"Don't be so naïve, Uncle." Jonathan whispered. "Do you really think Courtney would turn down a chance to father Golden Boy's child?"

"She cheats on me?!" Chris stated hoarsely. "But…with him!"

"Thanks, Chris," Wyatt muttered, although he was thoroughly disgusted with his future self.

Jonathan nodded. "But enough of this crap. I have a message. Lucien must die before midnight tonight, otherwise Anakin will turn and so will Wyatt." Jonathan spun around and walked over to Chris. "And if that is not enough motivation for you Uncle Chris, then perhaps this will convince you."

Jonathan handed Chris a small yellow piece of paper before disappearing in flash of gold light. Chris carefully unfolded the piece of paper and gasped as he felt himself pulled into a premonition.

"_Milord," stated a hooded demon as it kneeled before a massive iron throne._

_The throne was surrounded by flames, save for the small walkway that bubbled with glowing molten rock. The entire pathway was lined on both sides by marble statues of demons and darklighters of significance. Occasionally, one of the statues would explode and be replaced by another one of a completely different demon. Many in the Underworld hated walking down the path as it was a constant reminder of others like them that had failed and paid in full with their failure._

_The throne itself was completely removed from the heat and torture of the lower levels. It sat on a massive pedestal with a massive broad staircase drawing one's eyes immediately to the throne. But the demon knew this illusory trick and instead focused first on the occupants of the stairs. On the pedestal's stairs were lined ten blood-red cloaked demons, five on the left and five of the right. These were the members of the Source's Court: those he valued highly enough to keep at his side at all times. _

_The demon sneered comfortably in the shadows of his hood until his eyes finally reached the throne on top of the podium. On the throne sat another hooded demon whose very essence emanated power. The Source's cloak was a reflective black and seemed to float around him rather than hang on his body. Although shorter than his predecessors, no one in the Underworld would even think to call his stature a disadvantage. _

"_Rise, my servant," the Source commanded in a deep voice that echoed over the roaring flames. "I have need of your service."_

"_Anything, milord," the demon said, standing up and approached the pedestal._

"_Remove your hood so that I might gaze into your eyes," the Source ordered, also rising from his throne._

_The demon lowered his hood and Chris gasped as he recognized the demon as the one of the few that had attacked the Manor. The demon had the claws that had ripped apart his father. "I am naked before you."_

_The Source laughed in a way that sent shivers down Chris's spine. "As well you should be. I have a special mission for you. Tomorrow, I have an attack on the Manor planned. All the others have orders to distract and keep the witches busy while you complete your task. I want you to," the Source moved down the steps slowly, ignoring the gasps of his Court. He reached the demon and lowered his hood; Chris cried out despite knowing he would not be heard. Lucien's eyes flashed completely black as he snapped his fingers. "Take this potion," a potion vial appeared out a cloud of smoke that had clouded the Source's hand, "and kill Leo Wyatt."_

"Chris!" Wyatt yelled, lightly tapping Chris's cheek. Chris was lying on the floor not moving, not breathing, but just staring up at the roof with a look of utter horror plastered on his face. Wyatt blinked his eyes furiously and smacked Chris harder.

"Come on, Chris! Don't do this to me! Not now…"

Chris gasped and he bolted upright nearly knocking Wyatt's head with his own, not that the green-eyed witch noticed.

"Enough, Wy," He choked out as Wyatt pulled him into a bone-crushing hug.

Wyatt let him go and pulled back far enough to be sure Chris was alright. The blond witch smiled with a happiness he did not think he would feel again after his parents' deaths. Finally, the glee of not having yet another death in the family began to fade and Wyatt turned somber again.

"What did you see?" Wyatt asked softly, dreading the answer.

"It's him," Chris muttered. "I saw him; I felt him." Chris's eyes widened with horror and shame. "Wyatt, Lucien is the new Source!"

Anakin woke up on the couch in his grandfather's apartment and smiled to himself when he noticed Lucien's brown sleeping bag covering him. The blond-haired witch sat up and yawned loudly, stretching his arms in the process. He looked around the room to see Lucien sleeping upright in the single-person couch across from the one he was sleeping on. The teen stood up and yawned again, snapping his neck. He winced as the pain from stretching it hit him. "Got to remember not to fall asleep watching a horror movie," he muttered to himself.

The youngest Halliwell quietly crept forward toward Lucien, preparing to wake his boyfriend up when a crashing sound echoed through the house. Anakin spun around and held his breath. He strained his hearing, hoping to hear his grandfather's whispered curses or even the cursing of the demon trying to kill them, but instead he got nothing. Cautiously, he crept forward and picked up the steak knife left over from dinner the night before. He inched toward the entrance of the kitchen and paused.

"Grandpa?" Anakin called out, bringing the knife up to shoulder height.

Victor's balding head appeared around the corner and the youngest Halliwell let out a sigh of relief, sheepishly hiding the weapon. "Sorry Annie, did I wake you?" Victor questioned, completely ignorant of how close he came to being stabbed in the eye by his own steak knife.

"No," Anakin muttered. He silently chided himself for being so jumpy. He smiled and looked his grandfather in the eyes. "Making coffee?"

"Tea," Victor corrected his grandson. "But I can have a pot ready in a few minutes if you want."

Anakin shook his head. "Thanks, but I'll take some tea if you don't mind."

"Lucien still asleep?" Victor questioned turning back to the kitchen.

"Don't know how he can sleep in such an awkward position." Anakin muttered. "But I know if I wake him he's never going to go back to sleep."

"He really loves you." Victor half-stated half-questioned.

Anakin nodded and smiled. "Unfortunately for him."

"What's that?" Victor asked.

Anakin blushed and shook his head not meeting his grandfather's eyes. The teen had a problem of lying to the old man. "Nothing, Grandpa."

"Are the two of you going to the Manor today?" Victor asked innocently, setting a cup of tea in front of the blue-eyed teen.

Anakin took a sip of the tea and orbed the sugar over to him. "I don't want to, but if it will get Chris and Wyatt to stop fretting." Anakin fell silent, doctoring his tea. "I just can't face being in that house, Grandpa. It reminds me of them too much. I can't handle it quite yet; it's too soon."

"So just tell Wyatt that," Victor said comfortingly. "He'll understand."

"But that's exactly it," Anakin idly replied, "I think he sees the fact that I'm not there with him as an affront to him. As if he's not enough of a comfort for me, like he is failing me as a brother." Victor silently nodded. Anakin continued, "It's not that at all. I couldn't wish for two more loving and comforting older brothers; I just do not want to stand in that hallway and relive the event. I don't know how they are able to stay in that house and deal with all the questions." Anakin paused and more sheepishly continued, "Sometimes I wish we could all just escape somewhere, anywhere."

Victor nodded. "Well, you know you are welcome to stay here as long as you like, Anakin, and your brothers know that goes for them as well."

"Thanks, Grandpa." Anakin muttered, warming his hands against his teacup.

Victor stood up and squeezed the young witch's shoulder. "Well, I am going to go to the mortuary to finalize the rest of the burial arrangements." Victor spoke with a lump in his throat. "And then I have to go into the office for a few hours. But after that, we can go to lunch or something."

"I'd like that a lot." Anakin said. He looked back down at his tea. Slowly, he started back up, "If Wyatt or Chris phones, I'll go to the Manor; otherwise I'm just going to hang out here with Lucien."

"Don't forget to shower," Victor stated in his best fatherly voice.

"I'm not eight, Grandpa," Anakin said with a small laugh. But the happiness was short lasting and the grim somber mood quickly returned.

Lucien woke up and his heart froze for a second when Anakin's couch was empty. He closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths and did his best to calm down. "Anakin?"

"In the kitchen." Anakin's muffled voice reached Lucien's grateful ears and Lucien breathed a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing up?" He asked as he started toward the kitchen.

Anakin stepped into the living room with a frown on his face. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be up?"

Lucien looked around for a clock and cursed inwardly when no such object could be found. "What's the time?"

"It's almost noon, sleepyhead." Anakin teased. "I'm busy making some toasted cheese sandwiches. Do you want one?"

Lucien's stomach gave a rumble in response and the brown haired teen smiled. "Guess that's a yes, please."

"Coming right up," Anakin said walking back into the kitchen.

Lucien sat down at the kitchen table and picked up the newspaper. "Got any plans for the rest of the day?"

Anakin picked up the egg lifter and flipped the first sandwich before answering. "Not particularly. My brothers might need me to go to the Manor for a few hours sometime and Grandpa offered to take me out for a late lunch."

Lucien looked at the stack of toasted sandwiches next to the stove and smiled. "Got another boyfriend I should know about, Annie?" Anakin frowned and turned around. Lucien waved at the sandwiches. "Just saying if you already have plans for lunch; you are kind of cooking for the army."

Anakin's cheeks reddened. "I guess I wasn't thinking."

Lucien stood up and walked over to the blond. "Or you take after your mother more than you know." The brunette smiled to emphasize the compliment.

"Mom did overdo things when she was stressed," Anakin muttered and collapsed in the nearby chair. "I miss them, Lucien."

Lucien gave Anakin's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "That's perfectly natural. I barely even knew my mom and I miss her every day. I can't imagine what you and your brothers are going through."

"Thanks for the sucky pep-talk." Anakin stated jokingly.

"They're my specialty." Lucien said with a smile.

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence as Lucien picked the toasted cheese sandwich before him. He simply could not bring himself to eat despite being starved. Even though a week had passed, he still could not believe that Piper and Leo were dead. What's more, he could barely stomach the look of absolute helplessness in Anakin's usually shiny blue eyes. The brown haired boy snapped back to reality at the sound of the phone ringing.

"That will be Grandpa." Anakin explained pointlessly as he orbed the phone into his waiting hand. "Hey, Grandpa!

"Sure, I can meet you on the corner." Anakin looked at Lucien and covered the mouthpiece. "Do you want to come?"

Lucien looked up. "Err, I think you and Victor should spend some time together. I'll go back home and check in with my dad. Thanks though, Annie."

Anakin smiled for a second. "Yes, Grandpa, I'm here. It'll just be me…no, he's sure…Yes, I'll tell him…Ok, I'll see you there."

"What?" Lucien questioned with a playful smirk on his face.

"Grandpa told me to tell you to keep it in your pants," Anakin said with a smile causing Lucien to pull a disgusted face. "Hey! I'll take that as an insult if you're not careful."

Lucien chuckled. "You do that, Annie."

Anakin nodded. "Humph!"

Lucien burst out laughing at the pose Anakin was pulling. "Alright, you win. I'm terribly sorry for pulling a face."

"Thank you," Anakin said straightening out his shirt. "Now, nothing personal Lucien, but I must bid you adieu for now."

"Yeah, yeah," Lucien said standing up. "I'll be off as well. See you for dinner?"

"You can count on it." Anakin stated as Lucien disappeared in an icy breeze. With a deep sigh, Anakin headed for the door, grabbing the spare keys on the way out. He locked the door and pulled it shut. He walked down the corridor and nearly crashed into an old lady coming out of the elevator.

"Be careful!" squealed the woman.

"Sorry," Anakin muttered and stepped onto the elevator. "Stuff on my mind."

"That is no excuse," berated the woman but the elevator doors closed, saving Anakin from more torture.

"What the hell are we going to tell Anakin?" Chris questioned, pacing around Wyatt.

Wyatt did his best to ignore Chris and flipped through the Book of Shadows. Finally, he slammed the book shut in anger. "How the hell could Leo not write anything about elementals in the Book?"

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Wyatt?"

"There is nothing in this Book about elementals." Wyatt continued. "Absolutely nothing! I don't know why we even keep the damn thing. It's not like it is helping us any!"

"Wyatt," Chris said more calmly. "Just because it doesn't have an entry doesn't mean the Book's useless."

Wyatt rolled his eyes at his brother's defense of the inanimate object. "Whatever! All we know about elementals is that their powers are tied to their emotions and that they are usually more accomplished in one element."

"That's all _you_ know," Chris corrected. "You are forgetting the fact that Anakin has been dating Lucien. He probably knows a lot more than just that."

"But he did not realize that his boyfriend was the Source of All Evil." Wyatt sneered.

"Wyatt!" Chris snapped. "I'm as concerned about this as you are but stop concentrating on the negative and be a bit helpful."

"I'm not concerned Chris," Wyatt said, calming himself slightly. "I'm friggin' pissed off. He befriended us just to kill us! I should go right up to him and rip his small head off that stupid neck of his."

"NO!" Chris yelled, cutting Wyatt's tirade short. "No running off and playing the hero. We need to act together on this, Wyatt." The middle brother paused and sadness crept into his eyes. "We need Anakin."

Wyatt shook his head. "We're never going to be able to convince him, at least not until Lucien reveals himself. They're too damn close; it's not natural."

"Just because you only have physical relationships, doesn't make the emotional ones unnatural, Wyatt," Chris argued.

"Soooo beside the point Chris." Wyatt half snapped.

"Sorry." Chris muttered.

The attic fell silent as both brothers pondered their current situation. Slowly, Wyatt returned to his perusal of the Book of Shadows and Chris lay down on the ancient couch, coughing as the dust from the cushions filled the air. "Where's Grams when you need her?" Wyatt questioned to no one in particular.

"I thought you hated it when she flipped the pages," Chris muttered. "You told me you have night…" Chris shut up as Wyatt rounded on him. "Alright, sorry again."

"You will be," Wyatt growled but nonetheless turned away from Chris. "Any help here would be appreciated!" the blond shouted toward the roof.

"If she didn't answer our summons I thoroughly doubt she's going to hear your shouting," Chris stated sitting up.

"Could you decide if you're an optimist or a pessimist?" Wyatt stated coldly. "The switches are getting annoying."

"Well, seeing your parents' assassination being ordered by a close friend can make one question his worldview." Chris retorted.

Wyatt nodded and continued to flip through the pages and suddenly stopped. "Well, I'll be damned."

"According to your son, you already are." Chris said jokingly.

Wyatt ignored Chris's dry humor. "It's a spell to reveal one's true nature."

Chris jumped off the couch and walked over to the podium. "It's the Truth Spell, Wyatt. The one we've been forbidden from using, remember."

"This isn't for personal gain, Chris," Wyatt argued. "And with a few changes in word choice it could reveal one's true nature."

Chris frowned. "I don't know, Wyatt. Every time Mom and her sisters used that spell it always had some consequences attached."

"No consequence could be worse than turning evil." Wyatt's words hit Chris like an icy wind. "Now are you going to help me or not?"

The younger man looked at he spell. "It's going to be difficult to reword this. It's a very complicated spell to begin with."

"We're not the Blessed Ones for nothing," Wyatt said warming up.

"Give me a few minutes and I will see what I can do." Chris said copying down the spell. Wyatt nodded and started toward the attic door. "Where are you going?"

"You're the spell writer and I'm the potion maker," Wyatt simply said. "If you can't come up with a spell I might be able to modify Mom's truth serum."

"So you and Lucien had a fun day?" Victor questioned when Anakin climbed into the car.

"Oh, it was alright." Anakin said with a smirk on his face.

Victor glanced over at his grandson. "What's with the face?"

The smirk quickly disappeared. "Just thinking."

"Well, next time, keep it to yourself," Victor said evenly. "I do not need your mother haunting me because of what you and Lucien do or don't do."

Anakin shivered at the thought. "Ok, thanks, Grandpa!" He shivered again. "We've not done anything like that so stop worrying."

"It's normal for—"

"Grandpa!" Anakin said in a raised voice. "I was traumatized by Uncle Coop, Dad, and Mom with the birds and the bees talk. I do not need it a fourth time…and that's not counting the times I overheard the message being given to Wyatt and Chris."

"Oh," Victor stated half-heartedly. "Did they ever know?"

"Know what?" Anakin questioned, looking out the window. "About me and Lucien?"

"No, that you're actually studying to be a clown." Victor said trying to lighten the mood.

"I never explicitly told them," Anakin said softly, "Although Mom was always perceptive about those things. I know Dad didn't know or he would've gone ballistic on me; he is – err – was very much in the mindset of the 1940s."

"So why did you tell me?" Victor asked innocently.

"Because," Anakin looked at his grandfather, "I knew you would understand. Besides, it's not like they did not know I hung out with Lucien."

"Oh." Victor said, very much flattered. "So, where do you want to eat?"

"Nice change of subject," Anakin said mockingly, "very smooth."

Victor nodded. "But seriously, what do you want?"

"Um," Anakin frowned, "I feel like sushi."

Victor cringed subtly, "I know a place then."

"How's the potion coming, Wy?" Chris asked as he entered the kitchen.

Wyatt stuck his head out from the mess that covered the stove. "Well, I know that you didn't go to Chinatown like Mom asked you to."

"Oh," Chris frowned, "Must have slipped my mind between vanquishes. But I thought Mom said we still had enough of everything for another potion."

Wyatt shook his head. "You're just a lazy ass."

Chris smiled. "Whatever floats your boat, Wy."

"Could you orb some fish brains from the vault downstairs?" Wyatt questioned, ignoring the last comment.

"Meany," Chris stated but nonetheless waved his hand. "Where do you want them?"

"In the black pot," Wyatt said as he rummaged through the potion cabinet. "Do we hide pig's feet anywhere else in this house?"

"Are you making a vanquishing potion or a truth serum?" Chris questioned, eyeing the red pot surreptitiously.

"One of each," Wyatt said matter-of-factly. "No use in letting him get away if we expose him."

"Right," Chris drawled. "And I'm the Prince of Wales."

"Always wondered why you act like a prick sometimes," Wyatt countered. "And if he is the Source, the potion would to nothing more that force him to reveal himself."

"Yeah," Chris stated, picking up a wooden spoon and stirring the contents in the black pot, "And if we're wrong then we might just vanquish our brother's boyfriend. That's not just any vanquishing potion, Wy: that is the strongest potion Aunt Paige made to vanquish Cole."

Wyatt grunted. "Not taking any chances, and besides, you saw the premonition."

"I know," Chris said defensively. "But still, it just doesn't sit right with me. I mean, he's been around us for a year now and none of us could sense that he was evil? I know that the Source is powerful Wy, but powerful enough to block _your_ sensing powers?"

"You know I've not had a good vibe about Lucien since the day we met him." Wyatt said throwing in a couple more ingredients into both pots.

"And it is not just because you're jealous of him?" Chris asked softly. "I mean, Anakin used to always want to hang out with you all the time and now he spends most of his free time with Lucien."

"Yeah, I can actually do stuff with people my own age now," Wyatt countered defensively. He started again, more calmly, "I am not jealous, Chris."

"Just making a suggestion," Chris said raising his hands in surrender. "Don't go blowing me up because of it."

Wyatt nodded, "Done. How's the spell?"

"I would not count on it working," Chris stated slowly, "At least not without Anakin's help."

"And how exactly do you propose we do that?" Wyatt questioned, finally voicing the question both brothers had been fretting over since the arrival of Jonathan.

"Ask nicely," Chris said jokingly.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "And have myself in the doghouse again? No thanks, Chris."

"It's your own fault he has you wrapped around his little finger." Chris smirked at Wyatt.

"Glad to see you're enjoying this," Wyatt half-snapped. "But seriously, we need to figure this out."

"Would you believe me if I told you your girlfriend was the ruler of the Underworld?" Chris questioned.

"Well—" Wyatt started.

Chris waved his hand. "Alright bad example, I get it, but my point remains there is no way Anakin is going to believe us. He would not even go along with this just to prove us wrong. He would not want Lucien to think that he agreed with us at all."

Wyatt nodded and gestured in frustration, blowing up the innocent kettle in the opposite counter. "We're family, he should trust us!"

"And we're also brothers," Chris reasoned. "I would no more trust either of you offhandedly without carefully thinking it over. We play way too many pranks on each other for that not to be the case."

"Then we force him," Wyatt said helplessly. "You bash him in the head and I'll hold his hand."

"You know he's more adept than that," Chris commented, sliding onto the kitchen counter. "You would think this would be easy. I mean, we've vanquished whole demonic hordes with a twitch of a finger but we're petrified to make a reasonable argument to a twelve-year-old."

"A twelve-year-old with has a major temper and the power to make good on his threats," Wyatt reminded. "What about Grandpa?"

"What about him?" Chris questioned with an arched eyebrow.

"Anakin would listen to Grandpa," Wyatt reasoned mostly to himself. "If we explained the situation to Grandpa, maybe, _maybe,_ he'll be able to get Anakin to at least try the spell."

"But Grandpa," Chris started to argue but fell quiet. "He's not going to like this. You know how Grandpa feels about magic."

"He's a grown-up, Chris." Wyatt orbed the phone to his hand, "He'll get over it."

"…Just a second, Anakin." Victor said reaching for his phone. He looked down at the number and frowned. "It's the Manor."

Anakin's face paled. "Answer it already!"

Victor nodded and opened the phone placing it against his ear. "Wyatt? What's wrong?"

Anakin strained to hear Wyatt's answer. "…nothing…need…you." Anakin gave up and looked at his grandfather questioningly.

"It's nothing," Victor stated. "No, not you. Anakin wanted to know what was wrong.…Oh, well, I…Wyatt slow down!" Victor pulled the phone away from his ear as Wyatt started to shout.

"Young man, that is no way to speak to your grandfather." Victor said sternly.

"You damn right better be sorry," Victor replied. "But…alright…"

Victor fell silent and Anakin could only hear the faint mutterings from the phone. The young witch had half a mind to orb to the Manor and figure out exactly what was going on but then the image of his mother's death flashed across his eyes and he sunk deeper into his chair. The blond witch watched his grandfather's expression change drastically as Wyatt told the man whatever he was telling him. Whatever the news was, it was not good news. He braced himself for the worst when Victor finally closed the cell phone.

"Where did Lucien say he was going?" Victor asked slowly.

"To his dad's," Anakin answered paling further. "Don't tell me something happened to him!"

"No," Victor said calmingly, "no. It is just – er," Victor looked around the room, "Perhaps we should go home for this."

Anakin frowned. "Ok," he said slowly, "but if Lucien isn't hurt, then what could this possibly be about?"

Victor brought his face close to Anakin's. "Chris had a premonition about who ordered your parents' death."

Anakin closed his eyes and pulled back so fast he nearly toppled over. "Are you effing kidding me!"

"Language!" Victor reprimanded. "Now do you see why I said we should do this at home?"

Anakin nodded and stood up, "I'll be waiting at the car." And he stormed out.

Victor sighed heavily and called a waiter over for the bill. The car ride back to the apartment was endured in silence. Anakin got out of the car and strode determinedly for the elevator without waiting for Victor. Victor caught the elevator just in time and gave Anakin a disapproving look. Anakin raised an eyebrow and looked away.

The silence ended the instant the front door closed. Anakin rounded on his mortal grandfather with anger burning in his eyes. "Are you telling me that _they_," he spat the word out, "think Lucien had something to do with their death?"

Victor tried to place a hand on Anakin's shoulder but the witch brushed it off preferring to pace back and forth. "Look, from what I hear they have some valid points."

"Of course they do," Anakin stated heatedly. "They always do. Can't date that person because blah, and she's that, and he's this. I'm so sick of them messing with _my_ love life."

"Annie," Victor raised his voice to be heard over Anakin's ramblings, "this is not about him being your boyfriend."

"Oh no?" Anakin stopped his pacing to face his grandfather. "Do you know what Wyatt almost did to Lucien the first time he met him?" Anakin paused just long enough to take a breath, "he tried to BLOW HIM UP! They have not liked Lucien since the day they met him, and now they think they can…" Anakin fell into unintelligible muttering.

"Look," Victor finally cut into Anakin's tirade, "I don't know much about this magic stuff." This got him an unimpressed look from the blond. "But I do know Wyatt and Chris. Whatever you might say about them, they care too much about you to be doing this out of spite."

"Oh, really?" Anakin drawled.

"It is not like they want you to vanquish him, yet." Victor paused to clear his thoughts. "Wyatt said something about testing out the theory first."

"So they just want me to break his heart first before they send him to hell," Anakin sarcastically spat. "That sounds _so_ much better!"

Victor shrugged. "Look, so what if you hurt his feelings for a few minutes. In this family, there's no such thing as being too careful. I have seen my girls fall for the wrong guys too many times." Victor looked Anakin directly in the eyes. "Do it for my peace of mind, if nothing else."

Anakin took a deep breath. "I can't. I just can't, Grandpa. I mean I know it in the bottom of my heart it's not him. It couldn't be him."

At that moment, Wyatt and Chris appeared in the apartment, potions ready. Anakin looked at them disappointedly and walked out of the room.

"Sorry guys," Victor said sitting down. "I tried I really did, but he's set on the fact that it's not Lucien."

"Thanks, Grandpa," Chris stated, walking over to give the man a hug.

Wyatt nodded. "Wasn't expecting it to work."

"Expecting what to work?" Lucien asked from the front door. The three males looked at him. Lucien blushed, "Sorry for not knocking but the door was half open."

"Sure it was," Wyatt said coldly.

"Wyatt?" Lucien frowned.

"We know," Chris said placing himself between Lucien and Victor. "I saw it."

"Oh," Lucien's cheeks grew even redder, "Anakin promised me he had wards up."

"Not that," Wyatt spat, "although that just tacks on another reason. We know that you ordered Leo's death."

"WHAT!" Lucien looked completely clueless.

"Cut the crap," Chris snapped. "I saw all of it. You: sitting on the throne, surrounded by your demonic posse; the demon with the claws getting his orders, everything."

"Chris?" Lucien voiced his hurt. "I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"Bullshit!" Wyatt yelled. "I have always had a bad vibe about you and now I know why. My only regret is that I didn't act on it sooner." With that, Wyatt threw a potion vial at Lucien.

Lucien flinched but the potion never hit him. He opened his eyes to see the potion frozen in mid air. He carefully picked the potion out of the air and placed it carefully on the table next to the entrance.

"Anakin!" Wyatt exclaimed. "That would have revealed his true nature!"

"And I am telling you that you are wrong," Anakin said stepping further into the room. "I know that is hard for you to grip Wy, but you can be wrong sometimes."

"Annie," Chris argued, "I saw it. I _saw_ him order that demon to kill Dad."

Anakin looked at Chris. "How do you know what you saw was real? How do you know your power was not tampered with?"

Wyatt looked at Chris and Chris shrugged. The two pulled out a piece of paper. "All you need to do then is read this spell," Chris reasoned. "And you can prove to us that we are wrong."

"NO!" Anakin said in a raised voice. "I _trust_ Lucien. He did not do this."

"How can you trust him when he has never denied it?" Victor asked.

Anakin turned to face Lucien. "I did not do this, Annie," Lucien pleaded. "I swear on my mother's grave that I am not a demon."

Anakin nodded satisfied. "There, happy?"

Wyatt looked disbelievingly at Anakin. "Just like that? You would take his word just like that?"

"Yes," Anakin said moving closer to Lucien. "Just like that."

"Where were you today?" Wyatt questioned suddenly.

Lucien frowned and took Anakin's offered hand. "I was here until Anakin went to lunch with Victor. Then I went home to pick up some stuff and to check in with my dad before coming back here, you know the rest."

"You're lying!" Chris stated firmly. "I spoke to your father. He says he has not heard from you since last week Thursday."

"It's not my fault he's too busy to check his messages." Lucien answered evenly.

"Or," Wyatt voiced the two brother's reasoning, "You are using it as an excuse. You went to the Underworld! To give orders to your minions."

"Now who's lying?" Lucien snapped defensively.

"See!" Wyatt stated. "See, Annie, how angry he got?"

"I'd be angry too if you accused me of being the Source of All Evil." Anakin said softly. "Now, stop this."

"No," Wyatt said firmly; he gave Chris a quick glance and Victor disappeared in a mass of orbs. "I need physical proof that he is not the Source."

Wyatt threw the second potion vial but it burst apart with a glare from Anakin. Chris pulled out his two potions and threw them both at Lucien. Anakin waved his hand and the two potions crashed harmlessly into the wall. The two brothers looked at Anakin hesitantly.

"Annie," Chris pleaded, "we don't want to hurt you."

"Then stop this," Anakin warned. "I am not allowing you to hurt Lucien."

"Annie…" Lucien started but stopped as Anakin continued to speak.

"If that means I have to beat both of you, then so be it," Anakin said determinedly.

"Anakin," Wyatt raised his eyebrows. "You can't be serious."

"Try me." Anakin taunted.

The older two brothers exchanged glances and Chris sighed sadly. Chris raised his hand palm facing Anakin; Wyatt copied, except his palm faced Lucien.

"Nothing lost

Everything gained,

Show yourself,

You witch's bane!"

Anakin's blue shield sprung to life the instant Chris and Wyatt started the chant. Chris's hand glowed an eerie green blue and a faint light connected his palm to Anakin's shield. The connection spread onto Wyatt turning a golden yellow color as it passed through the eldest witch and shot toward Lucien. The brown-haired teen took a deep breath and readied himself for the worst when there was an unearthly scream.

Anakin's shield dropped and he shoved both hands out in front of himself. A massive wave of energy crashed into Chris and then into Wyatt taking with it the spell the two had cast. Lucien and Anakin watched in horror as the two brothers crashed into the wall and burst into flames.

"NO!" Anakin screamed, running forward. "No, no, no!"

Chris's and Wyatt's eyes turned on their youngest brother with looks of sorrow and then the two burst into piles of ash.

Anakin dropped to his knees sobbing. "NO, no, no!"

"Annie!" Lucien rushed up next to him and wrapped the howling blond into a tight embrace. "We'll fix this, Annie. Somehow, we'll fix this."

Jonathan walked down a pathway in the underworld carefully keeping his face shrouded by the shadows cast by his massive black hood. He sneered at the passing demons knowing they could not see his face and even if they did few would dare attack him, not right now anyway. His golden eyes met the eyes of a young female demon with long block hair. He smiled and walked up to her.

"Your highness has been asking for you, Jonathan." The demon whispered once he was close enough to hear her.

"The Source will have patience if he wishes for the job to be done correctly," Jonathan snapped. "He should know that by now. I work at me own pace."

The young Seer bristled at Jonathan's tone. "The Lord of the Underworld asked you to do a simple task and it has taken you a week to make the first step. We need them to…"

"Silence, _mother_!" Jonathan snapped. "The Dark One's plans are to remain secret and to never be spoken of outside his presence. You should know that better than anybody."

The Seer glared at her son and her eyes momentarily turn the same golden shade of Jonathan's. "You walk too much in the future and too little in the present, Jonathan. If you are not careful you will miss the chance and then we are doomed."

"Don't you think I know that?" Jonathan hissed looking around the small alcove as if expecting a demon to jump out of the shadows. "The powers that I have are far above those you taste on occasion. The visions are intoxicating but that does nto mean I cannot control my powers or my need for more," Jonathan paused glancing at the entrance with a hawkish gaze. "I find it somewhat pathetic that you fear so much. The Source should be able to do better."

"Don't change the subject, Jonathan!" snapped the Seer. "The eddies of time are swelling. A great battle is coming and if we do not see its cause in time we may not survive it."

"That is not my concern, that is your problem." Jonathan said dismissively walking away from his mother. He spun around and his hood fell off his head revealing his almost angelic face. "I have planted the seeds and they have already sprouted. The older two are dead, now all that remains is the mortal and their will be no more ties to the Light for Anakin Halliwell to hang on to. So you carry on to worry about this unforeseeable great battle, mother. I am going to report my triumph to the Source." With that he shimmered out.

He shimmered back at the entrance of the Source's throne room. Two guards waved him through and he suddenly found himself faced by the roaring plains of fire and molten rock. The two guards disappeared through the sealed doorway and Jonathan took a deep breath before slowly making his way down the lonely path toward the grand steel pedestal. He reached the bottom of the pedestal and replaced his hood before ascending the steps.

He bowed low when he reached the base of the Source's throne but rose before he spoke. "Milord, it has been done as you asked."

The Source stood up and walked down the few steps separating him from Jonathan. "Well done, Jonathan. Your father would be proud."

Jonathan nodded and smiled in the shadows of his hood. In a low whisper he spoke, "Don't you mean you are proud, father?"

The Source pulled back his hood and smiled. "Yes, I, Lucien, am very proud of you."


	4. Right Where I Want You

Right Where I Want You

"No!" Anakin cried, kicking and screaming against Lucien who was desperately trying to pull the distraught teen away from the piles of ash that were once Wyatt and Chris. "Leave me alone! I want to die! – please kill me!"

Lucien's breath caught in his throat but he pushed his emotions aside. "Come on, Anakin, we can fix this."

Anakin shook his head violently and ripped himself out of Lucien's grip. "No! No we can't, Lucien! I just murdered my two brothers! How the friggin' hell can we make this _better?"_

Lucien bit his lip. "I don't know yet. But we _will_ fix this." Lucien ran a hand through his brown hair. "But you need to calm down."

"'Calm down'?" Anakin asked insanely. "Are you kidding me? I just _killed_ the last two members of my family!"

Lucien tried to place a hand on Anakin's shoulder but the blond teen moved out of reach. "Bad choice of word," Lucien muttered. "Er, you're right. You have every right and reason to be pissed, annoyed, sad –"

"Just shut it!" Anakin snapped. "You – I – they..." Anakin took deep breath struggling against the forthcoming wave of sobs and tears.

Lucien smiled sadly. "It's okay to cry, Annie. It's ok to feel lost and alone. But you're not alone; I'm here, and I'll help you." He pulled the powerful witch into a tight hug. "We can fix this. You're a Halliwell after all!"

Anakin just sobbed into Lucien's shoulder and Lucien fell silent. After a few minutes of comforting silence, Anakin pulled out of the Lucien's embrace. "How?" This time he asked in a helpless voice. He truly was looking for an answer.

"I don't know," Lucien stated honestly. "But despite everything that's happened to your family over the last three years, I do know this: you are all miracle workers. If there was ever a family that deserved a cosmic break, it's yours."

"Ha," Anakin laughed sarcastically, "the universe cut _me_ a break! Did you just see what happened?"

"I know, Annie," Lucien stated softly. "I was there."

"I am sure this is easier for you," Anakin stated almost coldly. "I mean, I chose you – there must be a party going on in your head or something."

"No," Lucien stated firmly. "Anakin, I love you. I would not have wished this on my worst enemy, never mind my boyfriend. I'm flattered that you protected me but –" Lucien lost his voice. "_But,_ Wyatt and Chris should not have been a sacrifice for this, you and I, to survive."

"So I should I have chosen them?" Anakin asked, getting angry. "You mean –"

"Annie," Lucien interrupted, "this should never have happened. Someone played us; I'm just not sure if they got what they wanted or not."

"What do you mean?" Anakin asked incredulously. "Of course they got what they wanted! Wyatt's dead! They've won!"

"No!" Lucien shook his head and he forced Anakin to look at him. "As long as you carry on the fight, they will never win."

Anakin's eyes became dull. "But I don't want to carry on, Lucien. I want to just die – I want to…" he simply shrugged and wandered back to the pile of ashes. "I want them to still be here. Lucien, I want my brothers back."

Lucien nodded and walked up to Anakin and wrapped his arms around his waist, placing his chin on Anakin's right shoulder. "So let's find a way to get them back."

"How?" Anakin voiced the question once again. "They're dead, Lucien. Not even Wyatt could bring someone back to life."

Lucien did not answer the question because he had no answer.

Anakin leaned back into Lucien. "How am I going to explain this to – wait! Where's Grandpa?"

Lucien eyes widened and he let go of Anakin. "Victor? Chris orbed him away."

Anakin closed his eyes and his brow furrowed deeply. Suddenly Anakin paled and orbed out.

"Shit!" Lucien cursed loudly. "Could have taken me with you at least," he muttered as he closed his eyes. Taking a deep, calming breath, he and tried to sense Anakin, despite not having the faintest clue if he could. Finally, after ten minutes of getting absolutely nothing, the brown-eyed witch opened his eyes and stumbled backwards. In front of him, mere centimeters from where he had been, was an older version of himself.

"Who the hell are you!" Lucien questioned, carefully summoning a fireball behind his back.

"Who do you think I am?" The man asked in a voice that sounded exactly like his. The strange man glanced at the fireball and just smiled broadly. "And you may as well put out that fireball. It's not going to hurt me, so you are just wasting energy."

When Lucien did not follow his advice the man added, "I am not here to hurt you." He spoke in a calm, collected voice.

Lucien bit his lip, considering his options carefully. He analyzed the man before him and was unnerved at the similarities between the two of them. Taking a long, deep breath he closed his fist, squashing the fire out of existence. "I, er … I asked you first."

"God," the man muttered, throwing his hand up in the air dramatically causing Lucien to wince. "I forgot how stupid I could be!"

"NO!" Lucien half cried out. "It c—" He knew the only reason he would ever risk using a time traveling spell was if something terrible had happened.

"It is," The older Lucien said evenly with a small unnerving smile planted on his face. "I am you, or at least who you will be in a few years."

"But," Lucien struggled to talk. He knew time travel was possible; he'd seen Chris and Wyatt use the spell just to annoy the Elders, but seeing his future self was not something he ever expected to happen. Finally, he forgot all about the stupid question and dove into the deep end. "Why?"

"Because," the older Lucien said with a dark, sad, slightly overdramatic sigh. "Something drastically wrong has happened. The future is all wrong – one moment Anakin and I are perfectly fine, the next minute Anakin is – well, evil."

"Evil?" Lucien questioned in disbelief. But his protective nature kicked in and he yelled, "No! That's wrong. You're lying! Anakin would never turn evil, not even for this."

"What, losing his entire family?" The future Lucien pushed coldly. "You don't really believe what you just said, do you? You know that even the god, Anakin Halliwell, has his limits. This was the last straw. And the fact that he murdered his—"

"NO!" Lucien shouted, his eyes flashing in anger. "It was an accident! He didn't mean to kill them; he was just protecting…" he paused, getting choked up, "…me."

"That is where you are wrong," the future Lucien stated silkily, taking a step closer. "That is what you would like to believe, but you know that is a bunch of BS."

The future Lucien dropped his voice into a quiet whisper, "No one could accidentally kill Wyatt Halliwell. _Hell,_ that kid had more power packed into his well-defined body than most covens have over the course of their existence. No," Lucien looked at the present-day Lucien with a look of determination and longing. "No," the man said more slowly, "Anakin killed them on purpose. He chose _you_ over his brothers and now _you_ have to show him that he made the right choice."

The future Lucien took a step back and looked around the room in silence. Finally, his eyes resettled on the younger Lucien. "You need to convince him that he is better off without them. If you don't, he'll do something stupid and that is a path you do not want him to follow."

Lucien shook his head in disbelief. Slowly, he regained the ability to speak but even then he was only able to manage a hoarse whisper. "How can I do that when I don't believe it myself?"

Future Lucien's eyes flashed completely black for a second. "You have to stop him from turning evil. That is all that is important … kill him if you must, but you cannot let him cast the spell."

"Spell?" Lucien questioned, now completely lost.

"Yes," and for the first time the future Lucien hesitated. "Anakin is going to want to go back into the past to … to correct all of this." He lost the hesitancy and quickly went back into the routine, "It won't work: believe me, I've seen the results. You need to stop him from going back."

"Traveling back in time?" Lucien's eyes glazed over so that he did not notice his future self smile. "Why can't he travel back? That would fix everything."

"Because," the older witch stated exasperatedly, "it won't work and he will have to live through losing his entire family all over again."

"Oh," Lucien fell silent. His eyes wandered over to the pile of ash and he turned away quickly. "So why are you talking to me? Why not go directly to Anakin?"

"Because," the future Lucien bit his lip, "there is one more trial for Anakin to go through – and I could not afford for him to miss it."

Lucien's eyes grew wide. "Victor! He has to lose his grandfather!"

"Yes," the brown haired witch apathetically stated. "Only then can he truly focus on his destiny."

"No!" Lucien whispered desperately. "Magic has no right to demand that of him! It's put the Halliwells through so much.… I have to go." Lucien spun around and started toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" the older man stated, freezing Lucien to the spot with ice from his palm. "You do not even know where they are."

Lucien shook his head fiercely. "Chris," he stated knowingly, "Chris sent his grandfather away," Lucien paused and looked at his future self with determination in his eyes. "He would have sent Victor to the Manor. It's still the safest place they knew."

"Clever boy," Lucien stated slyly and his face slowly melted into a chiseled marble pointed face. The warm brown eyes turned into an icy emotionless blue and two fangs inched their way in between the pale, smiling lips. "But I still cannot let you go rescue the mortal."

Lucien re-conjured the fireball and threw it at the vampire, almost losing his balance in the process. The fireball missed the demon and left a massive scorch mark on the already singed wall. The vampire's cold smile turned grim as he waved his hand in a large circle. A dark blue flame erupted around Lucien, licking at his skin. The teen cried out in agony, which only caused the vampire to lick his lips.

"You really should not have done that," the demon lazily drawled. "You see, now I have to kill you or risk losing the trust of my legions. But don't worry; your death will still serve the greater good of my kind. Anakin is already fraught with grief and loss; what is one more body on the pile of his guilt?"

Lucien closed his eyes, wishing the flames to die out and for the pain to stop, but all he could hear was the vampire's laughs and taunts.

"You cannot defeat me, Lucien." The vampire sneered, sitting down gracefully in one of the chairs as he watched the teen slowly being roasted alive. "You are an elemental of great power, but none can compare to me." The vampire waved his wand causally and a spark of blue set alight the entire of Lucien's right arm.

"After all," the vampire continued with a laugh, "I have been at this for almost three thousand years. I have survived all the great turnovers of powers, the tyrannical rule of the Source, and the idiotic half-mortal Cole's attempt at controlling the Underworld. Hell, I was an eyewitness of the great battle between the Triad's foolish witch and the Charmed Ones. I stood in the basement of the Halliwell Manor and tasted the powers of the Hollow as it ripped apart the infamous ancestral home.

"So don't waste your breath fighting my fire," the vampire ordered. "Beg for mercy, cry for help; but do _not_ fight the inevitable. Go out with at least a shred dignity."

Lucien screamed as the flames grew more intense. Despite the pain, he was able to articulate enough curses to make even the most hardened sailor blush a deep red. Lucien's eyes welled up with tears but he refused to let a single one run down his cheeks. He simply glared at the vampire and cursed the creature with the best of his vocabulary.

"There we go," the vampire chuckled. With a simple gesture of his hand, the blue flames died out and the ice grounding the witch to the stop melted away. Lucien collapsed into a ball as his feet were freed from the icy tomb. He had no more strength to fight or argue; he simply wanted it to end. The vampire bent down and lifted Lucien's head up with ease. Brown orbs of hatred met lustful blue ones. "I could turn you; save you all this suffering. All I need from you is your utmost loyalty until the end of time."

Lucien glared with the last small morsel of energy he had contained in his injured body. "Go to hell, you bloody-sucking pig."

The vampire smiled and shrugged. "I will taste your blood tonight anyway so it makes no difference to me. But this way, I get to taste so much more as well." The vampire smiled and licked Lucien's dry lips.

Lucien shuddered as memories of his brother came flooding back. "Screw you!"

"No," the vampire shook his head slowly, "I think I will be screwing you, my delicious witch."

Lucien's fear got the better of him and he let out a soft whimper. The vampire's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he stood up, dropping Lucien's head painfully to the floor. "But work must still be accomplished before I get to enjoy such pleasures."

The Source's blue eyes became pitch black and flames erupted behind his pupils. The furniture of the room rattled slowly off the floor. Once they were airborne, the vampire randomly waved his finger and the various pieces of furniture went flying into walls or simply burst into flames leaving ashes in their place. The Source completely wrecked the apartment but was careful to leave Wyatt and Chris's ashes lying perfectly still in the dining room. With a nod of self-approval, the Source spun around to look upon the crumpled form of Lucien.

"Oh, you are going to be a so much fun," the vampire stated. "Your screams will sing my children off to sleep tonight."

The vampire smiled and bent down. The demon placed a firm hand on Lucien's bare back with just enough pressure to cause the exhausted teen to scream or at least try to scream. With a laugh, the Source's eyes once again changed to the cold black as a dark inky shadow crawled up his person. It completely engulfed the two of them and bulged outwards before sinking back into the cracks of the wood, taking along with its two companions.

"Grandpa," Anakin whimpered, "I really didn't mean to."

Victor and pulled his sole remaining grandchild into a tight, comforting hug. "I know, Annie. I know." His voice broke as tears started to roll down his cheeks.

They were in Piper and Leo's room in the Manor. It was exactly how Piper had left it the morning of the attack. There was a pile of Leo's clothes that had been the topic of the heated discussion between the two just before the first demons arrived in the conservatory. Piper's latest parenting book lay on her bedside table opened to the chapter on dealing with grief. She had been worried about how withdrawn Chris had gotten. If she only knew it was because he had been seeing a girl he knew Piper would not have approved of. Anakin shook himself to get rid of the thoughts.

Anakin pulled his grandfather closer as he orbed them back to Victor's apartment. They arrived to the empty apartment. Anakin immediately stopped crying at the sight of the carnage.

Victor looked around his ruined home in a state of shock. "You did all this?"

"No!" Anakin exclaimed. He spun around to take in the entirety of the wreckage. "Something must have happened."

"Must have happened?" Victor asked with a raised eyebrow. "Something, like what, exactly?"

"Another demon attack," Anakin answered helplessly as he shut his eyes. A few seconds later he gasped. "I can't sense Lucien."

"Lucien?" Victor said, concerned, but then he spotted the pile of ash and a part of him grew angry. "So what if you…"

Anakin turned away from the sight of the ash and broken glass. "Sorry," Anakin muttered. "It's just – it can't be him."

"Why not?" Victor asked softly. "I mean it certainly worked out well enough for his cause if he were evil."

"Because," Anakin snapped, "I would have sensed it. I have spent too much time around him to not have noticed if he were the bloody Source! And they should have known that – they should have trusted my judgment. Then – then…" Anakin fell silent.

Victor ran a hand through what remained of his hair. He was torn. Anakin was his grandson and he loved the boy dearly but he loved Wyatt and Chris just as much. And the fact that the two were dead now because of some boy Victor hardly knew; well, that did not make matters any easier.

"Anakin," Victor stated as lovingly as he could muster. "Wyatt and Chris had some solid evidence against Lucien."

"Premonitions can be faked," Anakin stated coldly. "Feelings can be confused. All they had was a hunch and the drive to find someone to blame for our parents' deaths."

Victor frowned at the sudden change in the young man before him. "Ana—"

"No!" Anakin stated warningly. "Don't excuse them. I loved them and looked up to them. But they were about to hurt an innocent and that is a big no-no. Mom always said innocents come first, albeit grudgingly at times, but she still meant it."

Victor took a deep breath. "Fine. Lucien is not evil and they were in the wrong. Happy?"

Anakin glared at his grandfather making the man take an involuntary step backwards. "How can I be happy after just murdering my two brothers? How can I be happy when my boyfriend is nowhere to be found? How can I be happy when the last remaining member of my family thinks of me as a murderer and a fool?" With each sentence Anakin grew more and more angry. "How can I be happy with the idiotic demon that destroyed my family still wandering the Underworld with all of his limbs attached? No, Grandpa: I am not happy nor will I ever be again."

"Good," came the silky voice of Jonathan. "Because I have an excellent proposition for you, then."

Anakin's shield sprang to life covering both himself and Victor. "Who are you?"

"What?" Jonathan stated disappointedly. "Don't recognize me, Uncle?"

Anakin's eyes turned cold. "Don't play games with me."

"They really did not tell you?" Jonathan shook his head and sighed. "So unlike my dad and uncle. They usually like to put all the facts on the table as quickly as possible."

Anakin took a step closer to his grandfather, not entirely trusting his shield to hold up against Jonathan. "Again: who the hell are you?"

"I am Jonathan Christopher Halliwell," Jonathan stated sardonically. "And you are my dearest Uncle Annie!"

"Put a sock in it," Anakin snapped. No matter how emotionally drained he was, he was not about to lose his grandfather, nor allow someone to soil his brothers' names. "If you were Wyatt's or Chris's kid you would be dead. So stop fucking around!"

"Language!" Jonathan snapped and Anakin dropped to his knees as his shield buckled under some invisible force. "So, you are just as clever as the books say. Good, because that will make this an easy decision. You see," Jonathan placed his hand tentatively on Anakin's shield causing the young teen to muffle his scream. "I do still have a proposition for you."

The pile of ashes shifted in a sudden wind and formed themselves into the form of a large television. The front ashes began to glow various colors and a picture emerged out of the horrid scene. Jonathan smiled, showing his fangs for the world to see. "As you can see, thanks to your dead brothers, my true father is having a rather enjoyable time with your young lover." The last word was practically purred.

Anakin turned away in disgust. "I get it."

Jonathan snapped his finger and the ash disappeared. "Such a waste, I always wanted to know what their blood tasted like, but you saved us a lot of problems and for that, I thank you."

"Shut it." Anakin muttered still cautiously remaining in between the demon and his grandfather.

"Oh," Jonathan smiled, "but I still must inform you of our deal. You have proven today that Lucien means a lot to you. So this is my offer: you join me and help me take over the Underworld, and I will promise my personal protection of your precious elemental."

"What?" Anakin's eyes sprang to life however fleetingly. "No way am I joining you or helping you in any way!"

"You seem so sure of that," Jonathan's golden eyes twinkled, sending a shiver down Anakin's spine. "But I know how much Lucien went through as a child. All the torture and other things his brother put him through. My father can make that mortal seem like Lucien's guardian angel."

Victor coughed. "Why can't you let this family alone?"

"Shut up, old man." Jonathan snapped. "Or you will find yourself to be my dinner."

"Leave him alone," Anakin stated although he could not keep the tiredness out of his voice.

"Or what?" Jonathan sneered. "You couldn't defeat a lowly slime demon in this emotional state, never mind the _Source's_ heir!"

Anakin bristled at the insult. "I am more than a match for you, otherwise you would not need my help to defeat your father."

"Don't be so sure," Jonathan said, calming down. "My father is not the problem I was hoping to avoid with this little scheme of mine. I know that Halliwells will come back to bite me in the ass. But as you are the sole Halliwell alive – having you at my side will put an end to that future problem."

Anakin bit his lip and looked at his grandfather. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. "Promise me no one will harm my grandfather."

Jonathan looked Victor up and down. "No demon would bother with him anyway, but sure if it will put your mind at ease. No demon under my command will dare attack this pathetic excuse for a human."

Anakin's eyes flashed at the insult but did not comment on it. He turned back to face Victor. "I am _so_ sorry, Grandpa. But at least this way I will know that you are safe."

"Annie—!" Victor started but Jonathan grabbed the blonde's hand and disappeared.

Jonathan and his prize reappeared in a pitch black cavern. Jonathan gestured with his left hand, keeping a firm grip on Anakin with his right. A roaring golden-yellow fire erupted in the center of the lair. Satisfied with the amount of light, Jonathan led Anakin to one of the walls and conjured a manacle and chain that ran straight into the very wall of the cave. With vampiric ease, Jonathan wrestled Anakin's hands into the cuffs.

"Now don't be foolish and try and escape." Jonathan hissed. "Those cuffs are charmed to do some horrible things to any magic-user stupid enough to try and use magic while those cuffs are closed." Jonathan grinned at the look of defeat that flitted across Anakin's face. "Good!"

Jonathan strode off to the opposite end of the cave and stopped in front of a large flat working area carved out of the rock. He muttered a few choice words and a massive cabinet above the table split open revealing a collection of potion ingredients that would have made any witch envious. Jonathan carefully started to pull ingredients out of the cabinet and added them into a small cauldron that appeared on top of the rock table.

After almost an hour of adding ingredients and stirring, Jonathan turned around and licked his lips. "Now, my pet, I can feed without risking your life."

Anakin's breath started to come in fast, short gasps as he fruitlessly struggled against his restraints. Jonathan just grinned and purred sensually. Anakin glared at the vampire and pulled against the chain one last time before collapsing in an exhausted heap.

"Please," Anakin whimpered, "don't!"

"Oh, but I must," Jonathan whispered in Anakin's ear before nibbling on it. "You see, yours is a powerful coven. One that will make me undefeatable once my plan is complete. And besides," Jonathan paused to lick Anakin, "you are simply too beautiful for me to waste such an opportunity."

Anakin pulled his head out of Jonathan's grip earning himself a nasty scratch along his neck. "Please, I'll give you my blood – just don't –"

"Ahh," Jonathan's eyes twinkled with knowledge. "You are a virgin, still. I must say: I am impressed. Lucien is a very physically attractive boy. For you to have had such a strong will – your blood will be rich, indeed."

Anakin bit his tongue and spat the resulting blood in Jonathan's face. "Like I said: you can have it."

Jonathan wiped his face and licked his fingers slowly. "Oh, but I want the whole ride."

Jonathan grabbed Anakin's head in a telekinetic grip and lifted the teen to his feet. He placed his hand firmly on Anakin's forehead in order to keep Anakin perfectly still. Then the vampire kicked Anakin hard in the shin, causing him to scream out, spluttering blood in the process. In that moment, Jonathan poured the vial of potion into Anakin's mouth. Anakin was in such shock that he swallowed the liquid without thinking and his whole body glowed.

"Works like a charm every time." Jonathan commented. "Now," Jonathan waved his hand and the chain tying Anakin to the wall evaporated. "For the good pain." Jonathan's fangs grew long and Anakin fought back, praying for the nightmare to be over.

"You are a fool to go against your father," the Seer hissed as Jonathan strode past her, dragging Anakin along behind him.

"Who's going against the Source?" Jonathan sneered. "He asked me to kill the mortal … well, I do not need to if I already turned the brat."

"This brat," the Seer waved her hand to indicate Anakin, "is the most powerful magical being to be seen on this planet. You father's plan to turn him was perfect, now you have gone and skipped a few steps. Who knows how much—"

"Why don't you go find out, mother?" Jonathan cut her off. "Or go sit in your comfortable cave surrounded by idiotic worshipers and worry them and yourself with your one great prophecy? You know, the one about a great battle you can't quite tell anything about?" Jonathan stated sarcastically. He paused to take a deep breath and pulled Anakin closer to his body. In a much more dangerous tone he continued, "But I swear, leave me the _hell_ alone, or you will be joining Wyatt and Chris in the ashes."

The Seer stopped dead in her tracks. "You would not dare," she hissed angrily. "Your father would have your head before your little plan comes to fruition."

"My father," Jonathan stated in a chuckle, "cares more about who is servicing him at night. The only reason he calls you his bride is because I suggested it was best that a _demon_ be seen close to his ear. But now that I am old enough to take up the throne, I don't need his power base to be all that solidified anymore." Jonathan finished in a tone to make sure his mother understood the threat.

"Why you little…" the Seer conjured up a fireball, "…bitch!" She threw the fireball.

Jonathan raised his hand and the fireball turned into a puff of smoke. "Don't tempt me, mother." He stated lazily. "Now _leave_, I have an audience with the Source."

The Seer glared at her son one last time before disappearing into the ground in a similar fashion as the Source had when he left with Lucien. Jonathan stared at the place for a few more seconds before continuing on, pulling Anakin in his wake. When he reached the entrance to the Source's throne room, Jonathan paused and pulled Anakin close.

"Now you listen hard," Jonathan started in a low, threatening whisper. "Do not say a word. Do not try to vanquish anyone and do not try to get away. I am not ready to make my move and if you behave like a good little witch, perhaps I can get you an audience with my father's new plaything."

"The Source is ready to see you now, Jonathan." A large hairy demon said in a low voice.

"Thank you, Marius." Jonathan icily stated. "Next time, don't keep me so long."

"Sorry, my prince," the demon apologized with a bow.

Jonathan walked through the invisible doorway and into the sweltering heat of the throne room. He walked quickly along the path, completely ignoring the shattering marble statues. He kept Anakin close to his side with a powerful hand on the teen's shoulder. The golden-eyed vampire stopped just shy of the pedestal.

"My son has returned!" came the booming voice of the Source. Then, in a silkier, almost confused tone, "But he has brought with him a most unusual gift."

"No, father," Jonathan humbly replied. "Not usual, just unexpected."

"Milord! It's the Halliwell!" One of the robed officials exclaimed before bursting into flames.

"No one talks in my presence without being addressed first," the Source snapped. The cloaked Source turned swiftly to face Jonathan once more. "Care to explain your gift, son?"

Jonathan looked over the nine remaining hooded and cloaked demons. Then his eyes settled on the curled up figure at the base of the Source's throne. A smile of pity played across his lips as he stared at the broken form of Lucien Jonas. "Has the Seer not already stated my reasons?"

"The Seer?" The Source questioned, now really confused. "Why would _she_ have come into my throne room?"

"Because she believes me to be traitorous," Jonathan stated simply and honestly. He glanced at the nine, cloaked figures and enjoyed watching some of them cringe in fear. "As do most of your officials. But I assure you my liege, it is they who have traitorous thoughts in their brains."

Jonathan's eyes settled on his innocent victim. "Is that not so, Alexandria?"

Jonathan pointed his finger at one of the cloaked demons and its hood flew off to reveal a horribly disfigured face and two pitch black eyes. The demon screamed in fury and flew at Jonathan who sidestepped the attack and tripped the female so that she fell into the molten pool and burst into flames.

"Enough!" Declared the Source, once again using his hostile tone. "I will deal with any who threaten my reign or my lineage personally, Jonathan."

The Source lowered his hood and indicated for the remaining demons to step aside so that he had an unobstructed view of the blond teen. "Now, tell me about why this delicacy is in my presence before the scheduled time. I still sense his grandfather's heart beating."

"Milord," Jonathan lowered his head, "I found an easier route to gain his aid."

The Source shot out of his seat. "Leave us!" He shouted in unadulterated anger.

When none of the demons moved a muscle the Source's voice became a deep, dangerous growl. "Leave," he drew the word out before snapping, "_NOW_!" In less than a second the throne room was filled with the soft sounds of air moving to fill the vacuums left behind by the fearful demons.

Jonathan rose to his full height and allowed his eyes to shine dangerously as the Source approached him, walking down the steps in a slow, predatory manor. "You thought that I had not thought of this?" The Source demanded in low but commanding whisper. "You think I was blind to the power his grandfather's life has on him?"

"Father," Jonathan uselessly tried to stop the tirade building up in the Source's mind.

The Source glanced at Jonathan and the powerful vampire stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the still zombie-like Anakin. "No, Jonathan; now is not the time for your quick fixes and rash decisions. His entire turning was carefully orchestrated to make sure it stuck, to make sure there would be no turning back for him." The Source gave a guttural roar of fury. "The power of the Halliwell line must be fully ours to do with as we please if we wish to take over the mortal and magical worlds. Now you have put us decades behind schedule because you thought you could claim some glory!" Jonathan bared his fangs at the insult but remained quiet. "Now I will have to break him like I broke the elemental and he will be of no help to us in an actual battle."

"Father," Jonathan blocked the Source's path, "I understand that your plan was well thought out and, in all probability, foolproof. But you've overlooked a significant factor, one that my mother should have informed you of before now. There is a war brewing. And not the one you are constructing by murdering the most powerful members on both sides. The storm gathering is a great threat to all magic and it is just over the horizon. My mother most likely believes it is further off than it is, as it is the only explanation I can think of that rationalizes her stupidity of not reporting to you sooner, milord."

Jonathan watched the Source's eyes for any signs of deceit just as he was sure his father was studying his golden orbs. "I have seen the battle against this beast, this devourer of magic. We will need the Halliwell line on our side to survive. And your plan would have cut it too close for my comfort."

"Silence." The Source commanded and Jonathan dropped his gaze in reverence. "There is obviously much I must discuss with the Seer." The Source looked down at Anakin and glanced upwards at Lucien. "Take both of these witches and make sure no harm comes to them."

Jonathan nodded and started up the steps. "And Jonathan," The Source continued warningly, "Vanquish another of my loyal advisors you will find yourself tasting the fires of my throne room."

"Yes, Father," Jonathan answered humbly. He remained silent as the Source vanished in great roaring of flame. "Come, Anakin," Jonathan whispered, "you have at least one night with Lucien. Let's not waste it feeling sorry for ourselves."

"Nothing is hindering the two of your from talking," Jonathan commented after enduring more than an hour of utter silence in the small attic of the Halliwell Manor with the two teen witches. "I will leave you alone if you want to…" Both teens remained perfectly still in semi-shocked states.

"_God_" Jonathan muttered. "If I knew it would be this easy to get the two of you out of the picture I would have done this a _long_ time ago."

Jonathan finally stood up; he was uneasy about how long it was taking for the Source to summon him back to the throne room. Cautiously he made his way over to the Book of Shadows. As he neared the wooden podium upon which the book sat, it glowed warningly. Jonathan stopped in his tracks, eyeing the Book but the glow did not decrease in intensity. The demon sighed.

"Pity," the vampire stated, turning to the potion table instead. "Could have done with some light reading."

"The Book still work?" Anakin questioned, breaking the silence he had held for the past six hours.

Jonathan looked up from the ingredients list he was perusing, "About _freaking_ time you showed yourself to be more than just a vegetable."

"Why?" Anakin questioned, ignoring the demon's taunting. "The Charmed line is destroyed – I killed my brothers with my magic –"

"Well, apparently your remorse is more than enough for the stupid Book to forgive you," Jonathan snapped, wishing now that the teen had just remained in a stupor.

Anakin stood up and Jonathan watched him intently but made no move to stop the blond. Anakin carefully walked over to the Book and gently ran a hand over its cover. Slowly, he opened up the cover and stared at the first page as if seeing it for the first time. Anakin warily turned the pages, but as time progressed, he sped up the process. He ruffled through the pages until his eyes lit up. "You were right, Lucien – we might be able to fix this. Lucien?"

Lucien looked up but his brown eyes remained distant. "Annie?"

Anakin abandoned the Book, glancing nervously at Jonathan who had not moved a muscle since his last comment. Anakin dropped down next to Lucien. In a soft, loving whisper he started to explain his plan. "I can fix this – I can make them see you're not evil – I can save them _and_ you!"

Lucien slowly became more lucid. "It hurts, Annie."

Anakin looked at Lucien's burns for the first time and grimaced. He choked down the vomit and simply nodded sympathetically. "You will get better soon." He stood up and glanced over at Jonathan but continued to talk to Lucien. "Everything will be better soon."

"How?" Jonathan asked cautiously, slowly rising from his makeshift seat. "As you said, the Charmed line is destroyed. And as powerful as you are, you don't have the strength to turn back time."

"No," Anakin replied slowly, almost daringly, "but I can go back in time and stop any of this from happening."

Lucien's eyes sprang back to life. "No!" he shouted, grabbing Anakin's wrist. He continued but the pain made him less coherent. "Don't go back – won't work."

Anakin frowned. "Why not? Chris stopped Wyatt from turning evil once. This is no different. This was not their destiny; it is not the future they fought so hard for."

Jonathan remained silent but a small smile played on his lips which he hid instantly when Anakin looked over at him.

"I said so," Lucien insisted, his eyes growing unfocused again and he was grimacing from the pain. "He – I – won't work – turn evil."

Anakin bent back down so that Lucien no longer had to stretch to hold his wrist. "Lucien," Anakin whispered soothingly, "Wyatt won't turn evil. He was just misinformed."

"Not Wyatt," Lucien heaved out; it took a lot of energy for him to talk and not scream out in agony. "You!"

"Me?" Anakin questioned taken aback. "I turn evil?" Anakin shook his head. "No, impossible – never!" Anakin glanced at Jonathan. "I went with him to save Victor – and you – but I would never, _never_, turn evil."

"All it takes for evil to win is for good men to do nothing." Lucien informed. His eyes were rolling back into his head and he began to sweat profusely.

"Shut up." Jonathan hissed mostly to himself, glaring at the young witch.

"What was that?" Anakin asked, twisting his neck to look at the vampire.

"Nothing." Jonathan answered quickly.

Anakin shrugged his shoulders and looked Lucien in his brown eyes. "I won't turn evil, Lucien. But I can't not do this; I can save my family – I can save my brothers." Lucien was about to talk when he slumped to the floor. "Lucien? Lucien!" Anakin asked anxiously, reaching out to shake the teen but then thought better of it. He rounded on Jonathan. "What's wrong with him? What did you do?"

Jonathan stared at Anakin in surprise. "Why would I have done anything to him? He was talking you out of going back to save your family; he was doing my job for me."

Anakin glared at the vampire. "You're a terrible liar."

"No," Jonathan sneered. "I am not lying. I have been charged with keeping the two of you alive for my Source."

"You want him dead though," Anakin stated, standing up slowly. "Why would you bother to keep his commands?"

"Like I told you," Jonathan said, keeping his voice unnervingly calm. "I am not ready to take on the title of the Source, so for now, I follow my father's biddings."

Anakin looked down at Lucien and stood to his feet. In a determined tone, he asked, "So you are going to try and stop me?"

"Of course," Jonathan said with a smile. "Can't allow you to mess up all my hard work."

"Too bad," Anakin darkly retorted, "I really hoped to not have any more blood on my hands today."

"And why would you have blood on your hands, my precious?" The Source asked as he flamed in. "If you act like a good little witch, you will be treated like a king for the rest of your life."

"Sorry, your evilness," Anakin hissed, "but I've found another way to keep my loved ones alive. So I regret to inform you that your offer is no longer good enough."

The Source glared at Jonathan. "Not even an hour and see what you have done!"

"Be careful, Father," Jonathan hissed, "best to show a solid front. That is what you always told me."

The Seer shimmered in next to the Source. "Do not take the bait, milord. He is after your life."

"Quiet!" The Source snapped. "He is not powerful enough to destroy me or take the mantle of the Source. He is smart enough to know this, at least."

Anakin carefully placed himself in front of the once again semi-conscious Lucien and discretely summoned the Book of Shadows to him. He quietly found the time traveling spell once again and glanced once more at the squabbling demons. He noticed Jonathan glance at him and Anakin smiled cockily.

"I call upon the ancient power,

To help me in this darkest hour.

Send me back to where I'll find

What I need in place and time."

The demons stopped bickering and looked at Anakin. Anakin opened his eyes that he had shut when he had started the chant.

"That should have worked!" Anakin snapped.

The Source's blue eyes turned pitch black. Anakin's blue shield sprung up covering himself and Lucien. The Source broke out in a smile and waved his hand erratically and various objects in the attic began to fly into Anakin's shield. As an object hit the shield it shrank and Anakin winced in pain.

"Give up, witch," the Source hissed, "you could no more defeat me than this idiotic vampire." Anakin shook his head and closed his eyes.

"Remember what he did," Lucien whispered. "Don't give up."

Anakin nodded. "Don't waste your energy, Lucien."

But Lucien was not listening. He struggled to his feet and looked determinedly at the Source. "You did something to me I promised myself that I would never let anyone get away with."

The Source chuckled. "Oh, so now the pretty boy is trying to help. How cute." he sneered.

Lucien nodded mockingly. "Just doing my part."

"Lucien." Anakin muttered but again, Lucien ignored the blond.

Lucien closed his eyes and stretched out his hand, wincing as his skin stretched and reopened the burns. A large fire disc formed in the teen's palm. Lucien stepped out of Anakin's shield and the disc shot off his palm. The Source's smile disappeared as he raised his own hand and redirected the attack. The disc circled around the room and crashed into the unsuspecting Seer. The woman's head dropped to the floor with her eyes opened wide in surprise. Slowly, the rest of her body crumpled and a dark vortex opened up were her blood touched the wood. The vortex exploded in a rainbow of light and knocked everyone off balance.

Anakin clambered to his feet and found Lucien lying unconscious against the opposite wall. Not worrying about the demons, he ran forward but another surge in magic tripped him and as he stumbled, noticing the blue glow from behind him. He spun around and gaped at the time portal swirling in the form of the famed triquetra.

"Kill him!" screamed the Source, rising up from his crumpled form, absolutely livid.

Jonathan looked at his father with a smirk. "No, I think I would rather do this!" He flexed his fingers and Anakin stumbled backwards into the time portal.

"Are you blind, fool?" The Source yelled.

"No," Jonathan stated evenly, "I realized that you were right a long time ago, _father_: I could never defeat you, at least not while you are the Source. But then – what if you never became the Source?"

"No!" the Source yelled and threw a massive fireball at Jonathan, but the nimble vampire dodged the attack and dove into the time portal. The Source spun around and glared at Lucien. "You had to kill _her!"_ The Source roared, incinerating the helpless teen with a glare.


	5. You Just Don't Know It

You Just Don't Know It

AN: I borrow heavily from the _Charmed_ episode "Chris-Crossed" in this chapter.

Also, Chris is very out of character in some of the scenes with Anakin … can't have your dead brother show up unannounced and not show some emotion. Now, on with the fic...

The darkness enveloped him until he felt like he was suffocating. Nothing had prepared him for this torture, an eternity of endless shadows with nothing but his own thoughts to keep him company. He would have screamed had he not been too exhausted to try. Not that it would have done him any good, Anakin mused. He had finally answered the eternal question about the tree falling down in the empty forest. There was little he could do about it, so he focused his small amount of remaining energy on keeping the debilitating memories below the surface of his semi-consciousness.

He remembered Lucien, bruised, battered, and dying, standing up against the Source. He saw the Seer's death and he saw the time portal open up. Then it became blurry, but he knew he felt great anger. He felt Lucien's agony as he burned to death; that alone made him question his decision to go to the past. After all, if he had not, Lucien would still be alive and free to live some semblance of a normal life. But instead, once again, he had made a decision that cost someone he loved their life.

Anakin twisted around in the formless dark trying desperately to shake off the sickening thought. He was going back and he would be able to change all of it. He would be able to stop the death of his sister, his cousins, his aunts, and hopefully, his parents' deaths. Then hopefully, he would never have to choose between Lucien and his brothers. But even if they did corner him, he would be prepared. He would be able stop them without killing them.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus. He knew enough about time travel to know that it was extremely difficult and dangerous. It certainly was not a good start with the portal only opening up when the Seer died. The spell was exact in how it should have worked and had some other magic interfered with it – Anakin shuddered at the thought.

_I want to get out of this_, Anakin thought, silently holding back tears. _I want to see my brothers again_.

There was a bright flash of light and the sound of a thundering propeller. A wind picked up and it rushed through Anakin, taking his breath away. Then gravity seemed to kick back into play and Anakin found himself plummeting through the swirling shadows. The shadows turned into the shining blue of whitelighter orbs and Anakin felt a hook tug at his navel pulling him out of his endless fall. Out in the distance, he saw daylight and the opening in the blue grew larger as he accelerated toward it.

A blue glowing triquetra grew larger and larger on the wood-paneled wall of the Victorian attic until it was large enough to reach both the roof and the creaky wooden floor. It grew brighter and a wounded exhausted Anakin Halliwell was thrown out of the time portal. He tumbled painfully across the floor until the solid potion table rudely stopped his momentum. Potions and vials went flying everywhere, covering Anakin in various colors of goop and animal parts.

"What the hell!" Yelled an angry twenty-two-year-old, a purple potion in hand.

Anakin groggily pulled himself up enough to see through the smoke screen the mixed potions had created. Through the thick smoke, he saw a man with long dark brown hair parted down the middle. He was not scrawny, but by no stretch of the imagination was he a well-defined man, either. He had a small round nose and cracked red lips. He obviously had not shaved that morning but Anakin took little notice of those features. The young teen focused on the emotionless pale green eyes that were studying him intensely. Those were the same eyes Chris had: well, if the obvious pain and sorrow was ignored.

"What are you?" Chris questioned once again, raising his hand slowly, obviously getting ready to throw the vanquishing potion.

"Wait!" Anakin stammered, his voice hoarse. "It's me, Chris."

Chris Perry paused in throwing the potion: his eyes flashing in recognition. "No! You must be a demon. Wyatt…" but with every word the young whitelighter sounded less and less sure.

Anakin struggled to his feet, careful to make sure that Chris understood that he was not about to attack. "No, Chris; it's me. I promise."

Anakin was not sure how to feel. The spell had worked a little bit too well. Instead of sending him back to just before the attacks had started—like he had wanted it to—it had sent him back much further. His mother and father had spoken about this event, or at least a version of it. He knew that in one possible future Wyatt had turned evil and Chris had come back to the past to save Wyatt from turning evil. It had worked, well enough; Wyatt had not had time to turn this time around.

"But … how?" Chris questioned, still remaining alert to any movement Anakin made, the potion held at ready should Anakin make any foolish move. "I saw _him_ kill you!"

Anakin froze; that was not a fact anyone had disclosed to him or his brothers. And besides that, how much could he afford to tell this Chris without screwing with the timeline to the point of destroying his own life or the good future this Chris was sacrificing himself for? "Err, you don't … _want_ to know."

Chris frowned. He lowered the potion, but his gaze did not soften. "Try me."

"No, Chris," Anakin stated tiredly, "you know better than anyone: future consequences."

Chris dropped the potion and he took a step back. "How do you –?"

"Chris," Anakin pleaded, "it's _me_, I promise. Mom and Dad told us about you coming back to save Wy."

"No," Chris shook his head, stumbling away from Anakin, "this is Wyatt playing some damn game with my head. Anakin Halliwell is _dead!_ He died saving me from our brother's wrath." Chris shut his eyes, repeating that statement over and over again.

Anakin, already emotionally drained, stood dead still watching this Chris fall apart. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Chris?" he asked cautiously.

"Shut up!" Chris screamed, sending Anakin flying with a wave of his hand. "Go back to that murdering son of a bitch before I vanquish your sorry ass!" Chris's eyes steeled back over and he regained his usual cold, collected composure.

Anakin got up with tears in his eyes. "But Chris – it's me! Annie!"

"It's impossible!" Chris yelled. "If you are Anakin, then I shouldn't be here. I would never have had to come back to the past."

Anakin ran his hand gingerly over the latest bump on his head. "Not if you changed the future too much." Anakin argued, making it up as he went along. "Not if you would not able to meld with the new Chris."

Chris' determination faltered once again. "You're wrong," he snapped. "The spell –"

"Spell?" Anakin questioned. "Mom and Dad didn't have a spell; at least not until the day you are born."

"Piper and Leo?" Chris asked despite himself. "They don't know about me."

"That's not the point," Anakin whispered. "Chris, you're dead in my future. I don't need this right now."

Now it was Chris's turn to gasp. "What? How?"

"You believe me now, do you?" Anakin asked incredulously.

Chris sighed and looked down at his feet. "Annie, I don't know what to believe. But if you are truly here, then it obviously means something has changed. _He_ killed you before you were even six – before you became powerful enough to stop _him_."

Anakin ignored the sickness that compounded his already ailing stomach at hearing those words. "Alright, but you're not going to like it."

"What else is new," Chris snapped sarcastically. "Be quick, though –" Chris looked down and checked his watch, "I've got an hour."

Anakin looked at the attic door. "What about Mom and the others?"

"_Piper_," Chris said, losing the small amount of emotion he had in his voice, "is already at the club. Paige should be at Richard's and Phoebe is at the paper. They are all meeting up at the club so don't worry about them."

Anakin sighed; he was already exhausted without this Chris's attitude. "Fine! I cast a spell to bring me back to the past—"

Chris's eyes grew wide. "What!" He snarled. "Why?"

"I already told you Chris," but Anakin fell silent, the scene of his brothers being burnt to ashes flashing through his mind, "you're dead. They're all dead." Anakin wiped away the tears angrily. "And this was the only way I knew to bring them back."

Obviously, Chris was not expecting that as he paled even further and had to catch himself from falling over. "How?" His voice was a whisper.

Anakin's breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened in fear. "The Source," Anakin lied quickly, looking away so that Chris could not see his face. "He had been picking off the family for three years and today he got Wyatt and – you."

"The Source?" Chris shook his head. The young twenty-year-old began to pace the room. Finally, he stopped and looked directly at Anakin. "But that's impossible. He was vanquished – even Wyatt never gained enough power to recall the Source's powers from the Graveyard."

Anakin shrugged. He was not particularly interested in the detail on how the raping, bloodsucking monster had regained the powers of the ultimate evil. All he knew was that he was in the wrong time and could be screwing with his future in all the wrong ways. He looked around the attic and spotted the same old dusty sofa sitting in the corner opposite the window that overlooked the quiet street below. He ignored Chris and walked over to the couch sitting down with a wince of pain. He was too tired to deal with all of this and Chris was not helping the matter any.

Ten minutes went by in silence. Chris continued to pace, stopping every once in a while on the verge of asking another question before continuing on. Anakin sat on the couch staring out the window onto the peaceful street. He accepted the silence with gratefulness. It gave him a few moments to thinking things over. Somehow he was going to have to reopen the time portal and try one more time to reach the right time.

"What happened to you?" Chris asked, breaking the heavy silence.

Anakin shut his eyes and took a deep, slow breath. In a distant, monotonous voice, he started to tell the story of his hell. "…then I felt the _creature_," Anakin all but spat the word out, "kill Lucien." Anakin blinked away the tears, refusing to look up at Chris.

Chris nodded and sat down next to the teen. Hesitantly, he put a comforting hand on Anakin's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that, Annie."

Anakin sniffed and leaned against Chris, causing the young man to freeze for a second. "I don't want to live life without them, Chris. I can't do it."

"I know the feeling," Chris muttered. He ran a hand through Anakin's blond hair. "Er…" Chris paused; it had been such a long time since he'd had to comfort someone.

Anakin pulled away from Chris and smiled. "Some mess I've gotten myself into this time, hey Chrissy?"

Chris had to chuckle. "The last time I was called that was at your fifth birthday party."

Anakin nodded. "Not that most flattering name in the world, I guess."

"You could say that," Chris said somberly. "Then after _it_ happened, I always regretted shouting at you for calling me Chrissy."

Anakin stifled a yawn. "Well, your future self doesn't take too kindly to me calling him that either; although, it never stopped me from using it."

"Are we close?" Chris asked self-consciously.

Anakin frowned. "Of course, we're brothers! Wyatt, you, and I, do as much stuff together as is considered normal for three brothers to do and sometimes we allowed Prue to join in."

"Prue!" Chris's eyes lit up. "She survived."

Anakin looked away. "She was one of the first to die, Chris."

"Oh," Chris shook his head. "At least she lives past three this time."

"Wait!" Anakin looked at Chris, shocked. "Are you telling me I never even got to meet her in your timeline?"

"You met her," Chris stated sadly, "but she died before you were old enough to remember her."

"Oh," Anakin replied and fell silent.

Chris got off the couch and went back to reading the Book of Shadows. A large yellow pad lay next to the ancient book and Chris started to scrawl notes as he flipped through the pages.

"You know," Anakin said tiredly, "it's not always as simple as it looks."

"What?" Chris asked, looking up from the Book.

Anakin slid off the couch and made his way over to the Book. "Who turns Wyatt, it's not as simple as vanquishing every last creature in this here encyclopedia of Hell's inhabitants. The person may not live in Hell."

Chris frowned. "It has to be someone and this is all I've got to work with."

"Yip," Anakin nodded, stifling a yawn. "Certainly going to make Mom jump through hoops before you get to the bottom of this. Just remember that trickery may not be your best option in getting the Charmed Ones to work together, Chris. They are still your family."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, Captain Obvious, but I can't precisely just tell them who I am either or why I came back to the past."

"Obviously you do," Anakin argued, idly turning the page in the Book to the small section on Elders. He looked Chris in the eyes. "Otherwise, how else would they have found out?"

Chris was about to respond when the sounds of footsteps reached their ears. Both witches froze. The muffled sounds of a baby crying broke the tense waiting. Chris looked down at his watch and muttered a faint curse.

"I'm late!" He explained to Anakin as he gathered up the remnants of the potions. "I need to see a certain demon about more empathy blocking potions."

Anakin yawned and rubbed his bruised forehead. "And what about Dad?"

Chris's gaze became hard. "What about Leo? He's doing what he does best."

"I mean what am I going to do about Dad?" Anakin clarified hiding his fear.

Chris's eyes softened. "What were you going to tell everyone in the time you were aiming for?"

"Err—" Anakin shrugged. "The truth, I guess."

Chris nodded and bit his lip, thoughtful. "Tell him you're Wyatt from the future. Tell him that a spell went awry and you need a way back. Just don't blow my cover."

Anakin slowly nodded his head. "In other words, lie through my teeth. Good thing I take after my middle siblings and not goldie-boy."

Chris did not reply to the comment and disappeared in a swirl of bright blue orbs. Anakin sighed and looked around the attic. "Let the object of objection become but a dream as I cause the seen to be unseen." He recited from memory. There was a parade of small blue orbs that consolidated around the broken glassware and the rest of the mess made by his crash landing. The blue orbs shuffled around until everything looked as clean as Anakin thought Piper would have left it. He them turned his attention to his wounds. Knowing he was too tired to heal the wounds himself he simply made himself as presentable as possible.

"Well, here goes nothing," he said out loud to calm his nerves.

The blond boy opened the attic door and cautiously made his way down the creaky overused stairs. He reached the second floor of the Manor and for a moment, was disoriented. The décor of the Manor was not at all what he was used to. Not that it should have surprised him. His aunts still lived here and his parents did not precisely have the time yet to do any redecorating in between the demon vanquishes. Reorienting himself, he followed the hallway down to what he hoped was his mother's room.

Anakin reached the door and paused once again. He placed a hand on the cold brass doorknob and took a deep calming breath, finally turning the doorknob and gently pushing the door open slightly. The room was dark and the curtains were drawn. He inched his way into the room and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the familiar comforter on his mother's bed. His eyes caught a glimpse of a soft yellow light glowing beneath the closet door. Anakin strode more assuredly toward the door and pulled it open, only to dive out of the way of an energy bolt.

"Wyatt!" he heard a younger Leo yell, "danger!"

Anakin sprung to his feet just in time to dodge a second blue and white energy bolt. The bolt struck the nearby pillow sending smoking feathers flying into the air. Anakin dropped to one knee trying to catch his breath long enough so that he could speak. But Leo attacked again, this time with two bolts. The right one missed Anakin and shattered a picture of baby Wyatt's Wiccaning. The left one, however, hit its mark square in the shoulder, spinning the boy around. Anakin lost his balance and crashed to the floor with his brand new wound still sizzling.

Leo stepped into the bedroom, turning the lights on with a wave of his hand. "Who the hell are you?"

Anakin gingerly put weight on his less injured arm and sat himself up. "Who do you think, Dad?" Despite the situation and probably because of his state of exhaustion, the Halliwell temper took over.

Leo's eyes widened. "Wyatt?"

Anakin nodded. "Now could you please fix this mess so I can blow you up!"

"That is no way to talk to your father," Leo stated sternly, but he nevertheless bent down close to Anakin and started to heal the boy.

"Father?" Anakin questioned, hating himself for the tone. He had only lost his father a few days ago; he needed to keep his distance until everything righted itself. "Sperm donor maybe, but you're not my father."

Leo looked stunned, hurt, but the Elder kept his thoughts to himself as he continued to heal the boy who he thought was Wyatt. Finally, the glow faded from his palms and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "What happened to you?"

"A battle," Anakin sharply answered. "What else is new?"

"Wyatt!" Leo warned once again, although he lacked the disapproval he originally had.

"What, Leo?" Anakin questioned, raising an eyebrow in a very Chris-like fashion. He prayed he had not overplayed his hand. When Leo showed no sign of recognizing the physical display of indignation, he continued. "We were attacked by a powerful demon and if I don't get back soon, they aren't going to be able to vanquish its sorry ass."

"A demon sent you back here?" Leo asked, choosing to focus on what he could help with at that very moment.

"No duh!" Anakin snapped, walking over to Wyatt's crib. "Forgot how cute I was," Anakin muttered and moved further away from Leo so that the man did not see the tears. "Where's Piper?"

"Piper?" Leo questioned completely confused.

"Yes," Anakin hissed, rounding on the Elder. "You know: your wife! The woman who gave birth to the most powerful magical being alive, the eldest surviving Charmed One?"

Leo nodded dumbly. "She should be at the club." He paused and looked over Anakin with the eyes of a proud but concerned father. Anakin almost broke down and turned away as to not meet Leo's blue-green orbs. "Why do you need her, Wyatt?"

"I thought that would be obvious, Leo." Anakin walked as he talked, careful to not fully look at Leo. "I need her to write a spell that will send me back."

Leo nodded slowly and looked down at baby Wyatt. "If you give me a few minutes, I can help you write one."

Anakin paused; his plan was to at least see his mom alive and well before he tried to reopen the time portal. "Thanks, but I'd prefer someone with actual experience in the matter. The last time you wrote a spell, it wasn't very precise and I _need_ something very precise."

"Well, then," Leo did his best not to show how hurt he was. Anakin inwardly cringed. "I'll get Paige to come watch baby-you and then I'll take you to the club."

Anakin nodded but suddenly he felt a cold knot in his stomach and involuntarily shivered. "I think you should take Wyatt Up There."

"What?" Leo asked, taking a step closer to Anakin. "Why?"

Anakin looked at Leo in the eyes. "Just do it!"

Leo's eyes widened and he took a step backwards. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain later," Anakin pleaded. "Right now I need to know you and Wyatt are not in any danger. So, will you _please_ get a move on?"

Leo nodded and walked over to the crib and picked up the sleeping Wyatt. He was about to orb when suddenly he stopped and looked back at Anakin. "What's your name?"

"Anakin," Anakin stated hurriedly. "Anakin Halliwell. Now please, Dad, I can't lose you again!"

Leo disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs and Anakin followed suit. The blond teen arrived outside the club P3 praying that whomever he had sensed was not capable of tracking his orbing trail. Running on adrenaline, he slipped through the crowd filing into the club and slowly pushed his way to the front. He reached to doors and took a deep breath. "Don't kill me, Mom," he muttered as he raised his hands and froze the entire crowd. He slipped through the door and twisted his hands, unfreezing the throng.

He looked through the crowd, careful to remain in the shadows as best he could. He spotted his Mom and Aunt Phoebe at the center bar. They seemed to be in an intense conversation but were enjoying themselves nonetheless. Anakin scanned the crowd and spotted his Aunt Paige with bright red hair moving toward his Mom. Sighing heavily, he started inching his way toward the bar. Suddenly, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder and he nearly blasted the person into a thousand pieces.

"How did you get in here?" questioned the burly bouncer, steering Anakin toward the exit.

"Sir," Anakin pleaded, "I need to see Piper Halliwell!"

"Sure," the bouncer sneered. "And I'm a monkey's uncle."

"You sure act like one," Anakin muttered. "Sir, please, just a minute, that's all I need."

"Sorry son, but Piper is busy." The bouncer said. "And besides, it's past your bedtime."

"Screw this," Anakin snapped and ripped his shoulder out of the man's grip. "Touch me again and you're not going to have a hand, dude!"

The bouncer ignored the warning and made a grab at Anakin. Anakin slipped under the man's guard and punched him squarely in the crotch. The guy keeled over in pain but still managed to grab Anakin's wrist. The teen twisted around and slammed his foot into the man's head throwing both the man and himself to the floor. There was more of a squabble and then suddenly, everything became deathly silent.

"Crap!" Anakin stated and looked up, already knowing what he would see.

Piper Halliwell placed her hand on her hips and glared at the teen in front of her. "What the hell are you doing in my club?"

Anakin stood up and brushed himself off. "Looking for you actually, Mom!"

"Mom?" Piper's eyes widened but unlike Leo, she was not so easily tripped up. "And who exactly are you that you think I'm your mother? Because I know how many kids I have and the one I do have is barely able to walk. So start explaining yourself, or you're ash!" Piper snapped unfreezing the scene. "I've got him, Todd." She said to the bouncer and pulled Anakin toward her office.

She opened the door and was surprised to see Chris leaning against the lockers with a woman's hand stuck in his chest. She reacted and blew the demon up!

"Chris!" she ran over to her whitelighter. "Are you ok?"

Chris rubbed his chest gingerly and took Piper's offered hand. Once he was standing he nodded at Piper, although his eyes were focused on a sheepish Anakin. "Yeah, at least I think so…" His voice trailed off.

Piper walked over to where the demon had been standing and looked down expecting to see a pile of ash. "What happened?" She looked back up at Chris in a bit more accusing tone, "Who was she?"

Chris's green eyes become the hard emotionless orbs Anakin had first witnessed when he had tumbled into this time. "I don't know." His eyes settled on Anakin. "Who's this?"

Piper spun around and looked at Anakin. "Another demon, probably."

"Thanks, Mom!" Anakin snapped, not meeting Chris's accusing eyes. "But I'm no demon. I'm your son, Anakin."

Piper laughed and gestured for Chris to shut the blue-purple office door. "Well, you need to get your facts straight, mister. My son's name is Wyatt!"

Anakin nodded. "Yeah, I already know that, Mom!"

Piper gestured in annoyance and the locker next to Anakin burst open. "Stop calling me that!"

"Look!" Anakin reasoned taking a step away from the destroyed locker. "I understand that it is a lot to take in, Mo – err – Piper, but we don't have much time. Someone is coming after," Anakin paused. He did not honestly know who or what the motives were but he knew that an attack was going to happen. "Wyatt or you," the blond ended lamely.

"Well, in case you didn't notice," Piper stated harshly, "I already dealt with one demon for the night."

"No," Anakin stated, "you didn't. But she's not who I was talking about."

Chris frowned at Anakin and Anakin shrugged and turned his attention back to the annoyed Charmed One. "Look, you don't have to trust me but at least go back to the Manor and," Anakin bit his lip. What could he get them to do? Scry for evil? They would be there for the next thousand years. No, he needed to narrow their search radius. "Well, at least go back to the Manor. If the guy does attack it will be best for you to meet him on your own turf."

Chris nodded. "Best to regroup at least, Piper."

Piper looked at Chris and then back at Anakin. "Alright, but only if you explain yourself to my satisfaction. None of this future consequences crap like from _demon-stration_ guy here."

Anakin nodded slowly. "Fine, Piper." They walked out of the office and after getting the attention of Phoebe and Paige left the club through the back door.

They were all in the attic and Anakin felt strangely at peace with the fact that his mother was pretty much ready to blow his head off at the slightest mistake. He answered the questioned as blatantly truthful as he could manage. He was careful to not let slip that Chris was actually part of the family or that fact that he had killed his two brothers less than a day ago. As he answered the questions, he looked around the attic trying to decide exactly what was making him feel like something was different.

Chris finally interrupted the questions being slightly more edgy than he usually showed the Charmed Ones. "Don't get me wrong—this is interesting and everything, but can we move on to which demon is about to attack?"

Anakin frowned. "I told you, I have no idea. I don't get premonition; I get the sense of foreboding. It is usually my sister or brother that gets the full visual."

Piper looked at Anakin with something less than the icy glare she reserved for demons that decided to crash the latest family get-together. "So you have a sister?"

"Yes," Anakin said. "I have a sister, two older brothers and a bunch of cousins." This got Paige and Phoebe's attention. "But anything above that is pushing your luck, sorry."

Chris glared at Anakin who simply shrugged it off. "Alright, well then I have—"

"What about the demon that attacked Chris in the club?" Phoebe questioned. "I mean, yeah, I know Anakin believes it's not her, but maybe she wasn't working alone?"

"Like a hired gun?" Paige asked, looking up from the book to join in the conversation. "This look like the marking, Piper?"

Piper walked over to the book and shook her head. "It looked more like a bird."

"A bird," Paige looked at Piper like she was going insane. "So you're saying maybe the Audubon society sent the demon after us?"

Piper rolled her eyes. "Enough with the jokes, Paige! It was a bird almost like a Phoenix."

"Phoenix?" Phoebe piped up. "But aren't Phoenixes the symbol of good and purity?"

"Only in Harry Potter world," Anakin muttered.

Piper looked at Anakin critically. "You know something, don't you?"

Chris looked at Anakin with a look that said 'now you've done it'. Anakin threw Chris a half-smile. "Look, I can't say. It would change too much – might even stop you from saving Wyatt from the evil that's coming after him."

Chris walked over to Anakin, stepping on the loose floorboard as he went. "Alright, enough with the twenty questions. Let's move off the topic of the bird lady and start looking into some real possibilities, ladies. I mean, what does it matter what type of demon she was? Piper blew her up!"

Anakin opened his mouth but Chris silenced him with a death glare. "Look, I was going over some leads of demons that could be coming after Wyatt. I suggest you start there. I'm going to take our little visitor for a walk." Chris gave Anakin a no-nonsense look as he grabbed his shoulder to steer him from the attic.

Just then, Leo orbed in and Chris muffled a groan. "Sorry, but he was getting antsy."

Piper walked over and took the wriggling Wyatt out of Leo's arms. "Paige, Phoebe, fill him in. I'm going to put this little guy down for the night." Piper left the attic shutting the door behind her.

Anakin wiggled his shoulder from Chris's grip and walked back in the circle. "Look, maybe Chris is right. One of you should focus on the demon that attacked Chris and the other can help Chris track down his latest targets."

"Wait!" Leo exclaimed loudly. "Chris was attacked? By who?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, Leo." Paige said, not looking up from the book. "Do you have any knowledge on demons with bird tattoos on their arms?"

Leo frowned. "Why would a demon be going after a whitelighter? Are you sure it wasn't a darklighter?"

"Yes," Phoebe stated exasperatedly. "We already went through that argument with Piper. Aren't Elders supposed to watching over the world?"

"We don't—" Leo started.

"Forget about that, Leo." Paige replied, slamming the Book shut. "Do you know anything?"

Leo slowly shook his head. "There are over a thousand different markings that could point to different demons but this is the first that I have heard of a bird tattoo." Chris rolled his eyes. Leo caught the whitelighter in the act. "So what do you know?"

"Nothing!" Chris stated angrily. "I was attacked and Piper blew her up. There is nothing left to argue about. We should be looking for a different demon altogether."

"Chris," Leo argued, "Perhaps this demon was a hired gun."

Chris threw his hands up in frustration and Anakin was surprised nothing exploded. "Fine! Waste your time. I, on the other hand, am going to get to the bottom of who is after _Wyatt_."

Anakin watched Chris disappear out the attic door and cringed as the door slammed shut. Anakin tuned himself back into the conversation the adults were having.

"Phoebe, all I'm saying is that if we figure out who she is, maybe we can finally figure out who Chris is," Leo argued his point.

Phoebe and Paige looked unconvinced. "Leo, sweetie," Phoebe stated warmly, "perhaps there is nothing more to know about him. He is here to save Wyatt; that's enough for us. Maybe if you stop accusing him of being a double agent he will lower his guard some more."

"You don't know much about Chris." Anakin muttered to himself. "Look, I can't help you all that much with this demon but I can point you in the right direction."

"Sure you can risk that, Anakin?" Phoebe teased.

Anakin smiled back. "All I know is that she is important to you discovering something important. Enough that the magic books devoted a chapter on this period on your lives. So don't give up, she's in the Book."

Piper walked back into the attic. "Where do you think you're going?"

Anakin looked at her. "I'm going to make sure Chris doesn't do anything stupid as I know he is prone to do."

Piper caught him by the wrist. "You know Chris?"

Anakin gulped and nodded. "He's around almost all the time. You could say he is … part of the family." With that said he walked out the attic, inwardly cursing himself.

"Not very subtle, Anakin." Chris said with a sigh as he cringed in pain.

Anakin nodded. "Sorry, but backed myself into a corner. And it's not like Piper and Leo are thinking of having another child yet, so it may just pass by. They are more concerned with having their separate lives at the moment than your identity."

Chris nodded and started to walk toward the bathroom. Anakin followed. "It's becoming harder and harder to keep them focused. I can't believe this is what Pi – Mom – will be like if I succeed."

Anakin nodded. "Ever the stubborn witch who wants a normal life. Well, they get it all thanks to you; however short it lasted."

Chris gingerly unbuttoned his cream shirt. He stared at the massive raw wound in the middle of his chest with a deep look of sadness. Anakin patted the man on the back and took a step out of the bathroom as he heard the doorbell ring. He watched his mom rush pass the bathroom and down the stairs. The blond carefully crept over to the stairs and spied on his parents.

"Uh, Leo, I got it." Piper stated giving Leo a slightly apologetic look. She turned to face the man at the door, and obviously smiled brightly because the man smiled back. "Sorry, I'm running a little late."

Anakin smiled sadly as he watched his father put on a face of being at peace with the situation. The man shook Leo's hand and Anakin crept closer so that he could hear them better.

"…gonna be okay taking care of everything?" Piper asked, turning back to face Leo. She looked at Leo meaningfully. "Wyatt and Chris?"

"Yes," Leo said, glancing back inside. "We'll be fine, Piper."

Piper smiled and stepped out of the door. "I'm just a phone call away if anything comes up."

"I'm sure your sisters can handle it, Piper." Leo replied, closing the door.

Anakin deeply sighed and snuck back up the stairs. He reached the bathroom. "You could have at least tried to keep them together."

Chris grunted. "Your Leo is much different than the one I grew up with, Annie."

"So why has Bianca come back to the past, Chris?" Anakin asked, deciding that his fate could wait a few hours.

If Chris was surprised at Anakin knowing about Bianca, he hid it superbly. "How should I know?"

Anakin looked at the wound and shook his head. "Well, this isn't going to go well."

"It'll be fine once I find her," Chris stated but Anakin knew he was talking to himself.

"Hey, Christopher!" Anakin snapped, tapping Chris on the forehead. "You've just been partially stripped of your powers. You're not going anywhere and if it's not reversed soon, you're going to die." Anakin looked Chris directly in the eyes. "Where will she try and find you next?"

"How should I know?" Chris snapped, pulling away from Anakin.

"Because she's your damn fiancé, Chris!" Anakin added, equally angry. "Look, I know that you can't die quite yet so either you tell me or I summon her. And then you're going to have to explain exactly who you are to the sisters."

Chris closed his eyes and fumbled with something in his jacket pocket. "I have to do this, Anakin. I need to understand why."

"Fine," Anakin glanced down the hallway. "But we start tomorrow."

"Ana—"

Anakin raised his hand in defiance. "No, Chris! You can't orb in this state. We'll go tomorrow, _together_!"

Grudgingly, Chris nodded. "Fine, but I can't stay here, not with him here."

"Give the guy a chance, Chris." Anakin stated, but his tone suggested he already knew it was a dead end. "I'll orb you to the club or do you prefer some God forsaken shack in the Underworld?"

"The club will do," Chris muttered. "But if I do this for you, you have to promise me you won't spill any more of our family secrets."

"My lips are sealed." Anakin zipped his lips shut and smiled.

"Nothing can keep you depressed forever." Chris said warmly.

Anakin sobered up. "I wouldn't say that. I can just make the best of situations at times."

"Well, see you then," Chris stated as Anakin waved his hand, causing the older man to turn into a swirl of orbs.

Leo appeared in the hallway. "So how much did you tell the sisters to get them to trust you?"

Anakin smiled sadly. "More than most, but a whole lot less than I want to."

"So, what exactly happened in the future that made you hate me?" Leo asked quite directly.

Anakin's eyes shifted to the floor and then to a picture of baby Wyatt. "You died, Leo. And when I go back, I may not be able to save you. I can't afford to get close to you and then go through that depression again. The universe can't afford it."

Leo nodded. "But could you at least give your Dad a hug for old times' sake, then?"

Anakin smiled, his eyes watery. "Don't ever change, okay Leo? Don't allow those idiots up there to rip you away from us." Anakin walked over to the slightly stunned Leo and gave him a hug. "And don't make so many sacrifices for the world that you can no longer defend yourself." Anakin gave Leo one last squeeze before taking a step back. "Now, I am going to take a nap; something tells me tomorrow is going to be a hell of a day."

"Why did you send me Up There?" Leo asked. "Who did you sense?"

"I don't know," Anakin answered honestly. "All I know is that it has to wait until this is over. Future consequences and all."

Before Leo could say another word, Anakin disappeared down the stairs. The Elder started to follow the teen but Wyatt started to cry and he changed direction mid-step.

Anakin woke up early the next morning and was pleasantly surprised to see Leo sitting in the seat opposite his makeshift couch. "Found anything yet?"

Leo looked up from the Book of Shadows. "No, but haven't really been looking for her."

"Reminiscing?" Anakin questioned. Not waiting for an answer, he continued. "Strange, since that isn't a photo album."

"I don't think the sisters own a camera," Leo stated softly, closing the book. "That was Prue's thing and I think Piper and Phoebe don't want the constant reminder."

"Better go get Wyatt before he wakes Piper," Anakin stated.

Leo frowned but then the muffled cries of a baby started. "Premonition?"

"No," Anakin answered. "Intuition. People don't change much, Leo."

The blue-eyed teen waited until Leo was up the stairs before he moved over to the Book. He carefully flipped through the Book until he found the page on the Phoenixes. Making up a quick spell on the spot, he made sure that when Leo reopened the Book it would open to that page. Satisfied that he had meddled with that aspect of the past, he made his way to the kitchen. He turned on the kettle and opened up the cabinets and scrounged through them for a simple tea bag.

"We have every freaking weed and herb known to man but they can't buy a simple Earl Grey tea?" Anakin shook his head. "Well, it's not personal gain if it's saving them from my wrath."

He pointed his finger at the box of some Japanese herbal concoction and it quivered. Slowly, it morphed into a black box with the words 'Tea Bags' scrawled over it. Anakin opened the cardboard box and pulled out a circular tea bag. He looked at the bag and pulled a face before snapping his finger, turning the box back to its original state. Drinking tea was eccentric enough without diving off the deep end.

"Someone seems to know his way around magic's rules," Leo piped causing Anakin to jump.

Anakin turned around and glared at his father but the look of annoyance turned into a smile before long. "Learned from the best."

"Who?" Leo asked. "Wyatt?"

"Oh, can't tell," Anakin stated playfully, "future consequences and all."

"Uh-huh," Leo smirked. "Right."

"It's one tea bag, okay?" Anakin said, holding up said item as if it proved everything. "I'll pay the cosmos back as soon as it catches up on its back payments to this family."

"Please tell me the rest of my sons don't become corrupted by Paige." Leo stated comically.

"I'm the sole member of the family who drinks tea instead of coffee," Anakin stated. "How's my older brother?"

Leo shrugged. "He's grouchy until he gets his breakfast."

"Like I said," Anakin replied, smiling at baby Wyatt, "people don't change much."

Anakin walked out of the kitchen carefully, warming his hands on the sides of the mug. He sat down in the sunroom, just tricking himself for a moment that his life was perfectly normal. That in a few moments, his brothers would come bursting through the kitchen door complaining about how Piper was forcing them to do one chore or another without magic. His older sister would be in the middle of the two brothers trying to explain to them that if they spent their complaint-time doing said chore, it would already be done.

"Anakin!" Leo was standing right in front of him with Wyatt on his hip. "You alright?"

Anakin nodded and was surprised to feel tears rolling down his cheeks. "Just missing my family."

"Well, as soon as we deal with whoever is after the girls we'll send you back." Leo promised. "Want to hold him?"

Anakin looked at Wyatt and smiled. "Boy, won't that be awkward." He set his tea down, held out his arms and took Wyatt from Leo. "See, Wyatt? You weren't always the big boy on campus."

"Do you get along with your brothers?" Leo asked as he walked over to retrieve the Book from the coffee table in the living room.

Anakin looked down at baby Wyatt who giggled. "Yeah, we have our tiffs but for the most part, we are inseparable."

"And do you…" Leo trailed off and stared at the page. "I don't believe it! PAIGE!"

Anakin's eyes suddenly widened and he turned away, his cheeks reddening as Paige orbed into the room. "Aunt Paige, really!"

"Yeah, Paige," Leo stated accusingly. "When I called you, I wanted a fully dressed you."

Paige pulled her pink lingerie up slightly to hide as much of her upper body as possible. "Oh please, Leo. Now what is the big emergency?"

"Robe!" Anakin called waving his hand in Paige's direction.

Blue lights surrounded Paige and a moldy brown robe suddenly covered up the redhead.

"Gross!" Paige exclaimed.

"Oh, get over it," Anakin snapped. "This family needs to learn a bit of modesty!"

Leo smiled but turned his attention to the now somewhat presentable Paige Mathews. "What would you say if I told you that the woman who attacked Chris yesterday was called a Phoenix?"

"Well, Leo," Paige stated sweetly but Anakin could tell she was pissed. "I would first ask what a Phoenix was and then you would tell me."

"They're a family of assassin witches who are very elite, very powerful and who were born with a distinct birthmark symbolizing the rise from Salem's ashes." Leo turned the Book around so that Paige could read it for herself. "They are hired guns and they won't stop coming until they get what they are paid for, which in this case is Chris or one of us."

Paige straightened back up. "Have you called Piper or Phoebe yet?"

"No," Leo closed the Book. "Phoebe's already at work. And Piper – well, she got in late last night so I didn't want to disturb her until we really had something to go on."

"Oh," Paige forgot her anger and her curiosity took over. "Did she come home alone?"

Leo shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know."

"Hey, Piper!" Anakin called loudly, getting the other two person's attentions.

Piper smiled sweetly, still in her pajamas. "Talking about me?"

Leo looked up at Piper and stood up quickly. "Uhm, yeah, morning. Wyatt's already been fed. Paige can, fill you in? I'm going to check if the Elders need me for anything." Leo promptly disappeared.

Piper frowned and turned to Paige. "So what's going on?" She paused as she took in what Paige was wearing. "What are you wearing?"

Paige pulled an "I-know-okay!" face and pointed at Anakin. "Ask your lovely son."

Piper smiled and looked at Anakin who was still holding Wyatt. "Well, I would say she is wearing a very old and smelly robe that probably saved her life."

"What?" Paige asked, spinning around to face Anakin. "This, this – _thing_ did not save my life."

"Show Piper what is underneath your robe then," Anakin stated smugly.

Paige blushed and opened the robe making sure her back was to Anakin.

"PAIGE!" Piper exclaimed, absolutely flabbergasted. "In front of my son! Are you out of your mind, woman?"

"Look, it's fixed so can we focus here, Piper?" Paige asked as she recovered herself. "Leo figured out that the chick that attacked our surly whitelighter is a Phoenix."

"A what?" Piper asked.

"A Phoenix," Anakin stated, bored. "An elite assassin for hire."

"Oh," Piper muttered as she picked up Wyatt from Anakin's lap. "So have you called Phoebe yet?"

"No," Paige answered, shaking her head. "No, I think we should try out this whole Power of Two thing. You know, try and be more flexible." Paige paused, giving Piper time to explode but the eldest Charmed One simply stood there holding Wyatt. "Well, I'll go get dressed and then try and scry for any more of these Phoenixes."

Anakin watched Paige walk up the stairs and then turned his attention onto his mother. "The Power of Two?"

Piper shrugged. "May be worth a shot. We do have our own lives to live."

Anakin nodded slowly. "Don't be too quick to let them go. It's not time yet for you all to move past your Charmed destiny."

"And how much longer exactly is that going to last, because I'm not getting any younger here." Piper complained, sinking into the seat next to Anakin. "How many years between you and Wyatt?"

"Can't tell you that," Anakin stated with a smile, "but it won't be too long before Wyatt will no longer be an only child."

"Cryptic much?" Piper pulled the Book closer to her. "So where is our neurotic whitelighter today?"

Anakin finished sipping his tea before answering. "He spent the night at the club."

Piper nodded. "Well, as long as he doesn't get drunk again, I guess that's ok." Wyatt started to fuss and Piper put him down on the floor. "So are you coming with for the confrontation?"

Anakin shrugged. "Couldn't hurt – we know you're not supposed to die just yet."

"That's comforting," Piper stated sarcastically. They fell into silence as Piper finished her cup of coffee. "Can you watch Wyatt?"

"Sure," Anakin looked down at Wyatt. "Has he gotten his building blocks yet?"

Piper frowned, "Umm, we have the set from when I was a girl. Victor wasn't precisely in touch with what girls play with."

"Don't worry," Anakin stated and waved his hand and a box of building blocks appeared next to Wyatt. "I saved you ten bucks."

"Err…" Piper looked torn between being amused and annoyed.

"Dad already gave me about the whole personal gain lecture." Anakin answered, noticing Piper's indecision. "And relax: they won't be missed by anybody."

Piper nodded slowly and walked away without responding. Anakin smiled and shook his head.

"So, little dude," Anakin began, slipping off the chair so that he was as close to eye level with the two-year-old as he possibly could be. "Ready to play Destruction?" Wyatt clapped his hand and giggled.

Anakin, Paige, and Piper arrived in the alley next to a tall apartment building.

"So what exactly is our plan?" Paige questioned, glancing around the corner as if expecting a news crew to come running up to them.

Piper rolled her eyes and strode out of the alley as if she owned the world. "Well, I freeze the security and we get in the building. Then we start knocking on doors until we see a person with a birthmark."

"Oh," Paige replied with fake awe. "And here I was worried that this was going to be a hit and miss."

"Can't you sense magic yet, Aunt Paige?" Anakin asked innocently.

Paige stopped dead in her tracks. "Wait, you mean I'm going to have to get the hang of even more powers? Because I saw what that empathy thing did to Phoebe and I _do not_ want to go through that."

Anakin nodded and kept walking. "Forget I mentioned it, then."

"Can you?" Paige asked, catching up to Piper and Anakin.

Anakin nodded. "But it could mess with the timeline."

"Screw the timeline," Paige muttered they were only a few feet away from the front doors. "If you can sense them, then do it. I'm not spending my day checking people for birthmarks."

Anakin bit his lip; hesitantly, he nodded his head. "I guess it couldn't hurt that much."

Piper froze the scene and ushered them quickly into the building. "If only Chris were that easy to break."

"Oh, God!" Anakin smacked himself on the forehead. "Chris! I promised him I would help him with a, uhh … demonstration."

"Yeah, well," Piper muttered, unfreezing the scene with a causal flick of her wrist. "Serves him right for being so damn touchy about the future."

Anakin quietly kicked himself and followed Piper and Paige into the elevator. "Alright, I'm getting a strong signal from the fourth and fifth floors. My guess would be the fourth, the fifth more feels more like a warlock."

"Ok," Paige whispered in Piper's ear, "that is just spooky."

"What?" Anakin asked, opening his eyes. "It's no different than you sensing where a charge is."

"No," Paige paused, "no, it is _very_ different than that. For one, you can do that to anyone. It's like Big Brother only magical."

"It's a power usually reserved for the Elders," Anakin explained. "But in your case, it was kind of a present of sorts."

"And yours?" Piper asked as the elevator door opened.

"Well," Anakin started and pointed Piper down the hall, "For me, it's more genetics."

"Oh," Piper muttered and pointed at the door to which Anakin gave her a sharp nod.

A blonde woman in her early thirties opened the door. She had on a long-sleeved turquoise shirt. Her blue eyes settled on Anakin for a moment and Anakin got the strange feeling she was prying into his mind as if she recognized him. "Can I help you?" she asked, turning her confused gaze to Piper.

Piper became cheerful and chipper. "I hope so. You see, we're new to the neighborhood. Just moved in, in fact. And we wanted to meet our new neighbors."

"Oh!" The woman remained wary. "Where did you move from?"

Paige answered the question in a hinting tone. "Phoenix." Piper gave her a sharp look.

If the woman caught the hint she showed no outward signs of it. She smiled and ushered them in. "Come on in." The three Halliwells stepped into the apartment and walked down into the living room. A few seconds later, the woman came in behind them. "Bianca, sweetie? Why don't you go play in your room for a bit?"

It was then that Anakin noticed a small girl sitting in a corner playing with a brown teddy bear. He was careful not to look back at the two Charmed Ones in case he gave too much away. They still did not know that the Phoenix that had attacked Chris was from the future. He turned his attention back to Bianca's mother as she closed her daughter's bedroom door. She turned around slowly and formed an energy ball in her hand. In a flash she threw the energy ball at Piper.

"Look out!" shouted Piper as she dove out of the way.

"What do you want?" Bianca's mother asked as she formed another energy ball.

Anakin flicked his finger sending her crashing into the wall. She got right back up and was about to throw the energy ball at Anakin when she burst into millions of pieces. Anakin stared at the scene when he heard Piper say something about the girl. "No! Wait!"

"What?" Paige asked.

"They can reform," Anakin admitted. "She'll ambush you. We need to get out of here."

"What?" Piper exclaimed, rounding on Anakin. "You mean that chick I blew up last night is still out there?"

Anakin nodded, ashamed. "You need to get back to the Manor and regroup."

"You?" Piper asked. "And what exactly will you be doing, then?"

Anakin gulped, no one liked to be the object of Piper Halliwell's anger. "Finding Chris." Anakin orbed out before either of them could argue. He reappeared on the top of the Golden Gate Bridge breathing deeply. Why had he stopped them from going into that room? Piper could have easily taken on Bianca's mother again if the woman had been foolish enough to stick around.

"Anakin?" Leo reappeared next to the shaking teen. "We need your help."

Anakin looked up at Leo. "Something is about to happen, Dad. Something, and I can't stop it."

Leo frowned. "Look, Chris is unconscious."

Anakin nodded. "I felt him orb back to the Manor. Only Bianca can fix this – she needs to strip Chris of the rest of his powers or else he'll die."

"Whitelighters can't die." Leo stated the obvious.

Anakin nodded. "Well, this one can, ok? But I can't interfere. Something is wrong and I have to fix it."

"I just told you what is wrong," Leo stated, getting slightly annoyed.

"No," Anakin said, "this is meant to happen. It has to happen, but if I don't stop whatever it is that I need to stop, there will be no future for Chris to save."

"What are you talking about?" Leo questioned.

"Sensed him again," Anakin whispered not looking at Leo. "I don't know how, but I did."

"Who?" Leo asked getting more and more concerned by the second.

"The Great Evil," Anakin spoke so that he could barely hear himself above the rushing wind. "It has to be him."

"Anakin," Leo placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, "you're not making any sense."

"You need to get back;" Anakin said quickly, "the potion is in the back of the Book." With that, he orbed out, leaving behind a very confused Leo.

Anakin reappeared in the Underworld, anger blazing in his blue eyes. "Come out, you coward! I know it's you!"

There was a ripple in the air and suddenly Jonathan stood in front of Anakin, smiling comfortably. "Took you freaking long enough, Annie."

"I should kill you," Anakin hissed, shaking with suppressed anger.

"Oh, but then you would never be able to get back to where you need to," Jonathan silkily drawled. "My mother screwed up the spell and now only our combined efforts will allow us to get to the place we want to."

"I will not help you become the next Source!" Anakin shouted, the ground rumbling.

Jonathan rode out the miniature earthquake and just grinned. "Well then, I guess you will never see your precious Lucien alive again."

"No!" Anakin shook his head. "I can do this without you. It's your fault everything got screwed up in the first place."

"My fault?" Jonathan took a step closer and ran a gentle finger down Anakin's chest. "No, Anakin; it is _your_ destiny that got them all killed. I was just there for the ride. I am an Oracle like my mother; only I can actually use my powers. You were destined to follow in my father's footsteps as the Ruler of Evil. I simply put a large enough bump in the road so that you might be able to change your fate. You should be thanking me."

"After what you did to me?" Anakin screamed, shoving Jonathan away with a telekinetic blast. "You're a savage animal!"

"Why, thank you," Jonathan did a mock bow. "But the time has not yet come for compliments. You have already messed with the timeline far too much. We must get back to our time or at least closer to it before you push the universe into complete disarray."

Anakin shook his head. "I am _not_ helping you become the Source. My mom and aunts can write a spell to send me back."

"So be it," Jonathan said with a sickly smile. "But when it fails, don't come crawling back to me for help. I can finish out my plan in this time as easily as in your time."

"Like hell you will!" Anakin hissed.

The blond-haired witch raised his hand and lightning bolts shot out of his hand and crashed into Jonathan, sending the vampire plummeting to the floor. Jonathan jumped back to his feet and with a simple glare, had Anakin pinned to the floor. Anakin closed his eyes and let out a primordial growl. The ground shook and a massive stalactite broke off from the roof of the cave. Jonathan dove out of the way, barely dodging the limestone stake.

"Impressive, Anakin." Jonathan teased. "You certainly live up to your reputation."

"Bad move, scum bag!" Anakin whispered. "Never talk in the middle of a battle."

Anakin raised his hand and lighting again shot out of his fingers but this time Jonathan was ready for the attack and caught the streams of electricity on the palm of his hand. Anakin whipped his other hand around in the air and a large fiery blue whip appeared out of thin air. Anakin dropped his hand and caught the whip in his right hand. Jonathan conjured a sword that with a faint glow to it. Anakin spun around and the whip soared through the air with grace and deadly accuracy. The whip wrapped around the vampire's sword and with a tug, Anakin ripped the weapon out of the demon's hand.

"This is for Wyatt!" Anakin yelled as he threw a massive fireball.

The fireball crashed into Jonathan sending, him flying into the uneven surface of the cave wall. Jonathan slumped to the floor.

"This is for Chris!" Anakin growled.

He conjured a silver stake and threw it at Jonathan. It missed Jonathan's heart but still nailed the vampire to the cave wall by his shoulder. Jonathan screamed in pain and fury. He tore himself off the cave wall, leaving a large portion of his shoulder nailed to the stone. He lunged wildly at Anakin, catching the teen below the knees, pulling the blond down on top of him. Anakin elbowed Jonathan in the kidney and scrambled back on his feet.

"I will _not_ die yet! I will become the most powerful ruler the Underworld has ever witnessed!" Jonathan yelled, also getting to his feet. "And if you get in my way I regrettably kill you."

Anakin ignored the vampire and silently called for Excalibur. The ancient weapon appeared in the teen's hand, glowing brightly in the crackling torch light. Jonathan sneered and summoned his sword back into his hand. The two clashed sending the sounds of metal crashing against metal echoing down the corridors of the Underworld. Jonathan, despite his injuries, moved quicker than Anakin and so slowly wore the witch down.

Anakin swung Excalibur over his head to block Jonathan's attack but was too slow to bring Excalibur back in front to block the next blow. The sword found flesh and Jonathan drove the sword all the way through Anakin's arm. Anakin screamed and dropped Excalibur to clutch at his left arm, which now was missing everything below the elbow.

"I told you," Jonathan sneered, bring his bloodied sword up to Anakin's neck. "I _will_ kill you."

Anakin showed no fear and forced himself to focus. "So finish it, moron. Send me to the afterlife so I can be with my family and Lucien."

Jonathan lowered his sword and cocked his head to one side. "Not without one last bite." Anakin breathed hard, his eyes falling shut in defeat. Jonathan smirked triumphantly, leaning in to make good on his demand.

As Jonathan bent in, Anakin flicked his wrist. Excalibur jumped off the floor and drove itself into Jonathan's back. The vampire roared in fury and backhanded Anakin across the large chamber, pulling the offending weapon out of his back. Jonathan stalked his way across the room, his eyes glowing menacingly. Anakin struggled to catch his breath as he watched in dread as the vampire came closer.

"You are dead, Anakin," Jonathan hissed, losing all of his suaveness. "And once your corpse is no longer attached to your head, I'm going to go to the Manor and slowly suck each and every one of your family members dry. I might even give baby Wyatt his first and last taste of what it is like to be intimate."

That pissed Anakin off Adrenaline rushed into his bloodstream and Anakin jumped to his feet. He charged forward, knocking Jonathan over. He pinned the much more powerful demon to the ground and punched the vampire in the face as hard as he could. Jonathan recovered from his shock and knocked the enraged witch off him. He conjured up a dagger and got ready to plunge it on to Anakin's unprotected back when suddenly the dagger was no longer in his hand.

"Leave my kid alone you asshole!" Piper yelled as she flicked her wrists.

Jonathan stumbled backwards and started to laugh until he noticed Anakin standing up. Anakin looked at Jonathan with pure hatred. "And this … is for Lucien." He swung Excalibur and the sword severed the vampire's head from the rest of his body. Anakin watched the body drop to the floor before he let go of Excalibur and collapsed out of exhaustion.

"Where am I?" Anakin asked when he woke up.

"Home, sweetie," Piper said soothingly. "How are you feeling?"

"Sick," Anakin admitted, lying his head back down on the pillow. "And sore."

"Well, you had one hell of a fight, son." Leo said lovingly. "I did my best but there is still going to be aches and pains for a while."

Anakin nodded and lifted up his left arm to see that it was still a stump. "At least it's not still bloody."

Piper stroked Anakin's hair caringly. "Up to explaining who that guy was?"

Anakin looked around the room or at least the part he could see. "Is Chris ok?"

"Chris is fine," Leo answered. "He's the one who alerted us to you being in trouble. Still don't know how though," Leo trailed off.

"Not now, Leo," Piper admonished her ex-husband, slapping him on the knee. "So?"

Anakin gulped. "He's the son of a very powerful bad guy from my time. We got into a very bad situation and the only way out that I saw was to come back in time to stop it from ever happening. I guess the demon followed me back in time."

Piper nodded. "And who is Lucien?"

This time, Anakin closed his eyes and turned away from Piper. "He was my boyfriend and I got him killed."

"Oh," Piper bit her lip. "I'm sorry, sweetie." She pulled Anakin toward her and gave him a hug. "Well, you might be able to change that as well, then."

"Yeah," Anakin muttered, now feeling stupid for his tears. "If I can get back to the right time to fix all of this."

"What do you mean, the 'right time'?" Leo asked.

Anakin looked at the Elder. "The spell that I cast went wrong. I was not supposed to come back this far. And now I just vanquished my only chance of getting back to the right time."

"Care to explain for the magically less-informed?" Piper joked.

"The demon said that I needed his help to get to the right time," Anakin confessed, closing his eyes. "His mother blocked the time portal with powerful magic, probably strong enough to even block the Charmed Ones."

"Then what about doubling up on that power?" Chris asked, walking through the door.

"Chris?" Anakin said with a frown. "You can't – not yet."

"I just mean," Chris stated, cutting off Piper and Leo's questions, "that between you, baby Wyatt, the Charmed Ones, and myself, we might have enough power to break through."

Leo looked at Chris. "That could work, but time travel is a tricky business."

"We know that Leo," Chris stated coldly. "But I have a spell that allowed Bianca to travel back here. It took powerful magic to break through the wards I put up to stop that from happening. It's worth a shot at least."

Anakin sighed and closed his eyes. "Sounds like a plan, Chris."

"Yeah," Chris sat down next to Anakin, "but first, you need to rest up. No telling what you'll meet on the other side; you'll need your strength."

Piper glanced at Leo who shrugged, causing Anakin to giggle. "You'll be surprised when you find out."

Chris nodded. "But you've learned enough about me for the week. I'll be in the attic searching for more demons that could possibly be after Wyatt when you need me."

"Chris," Anakin called. "Remember what I told you. The guy may not be in that Book."

"Yeah, I know," Chris said tiredly. "But it's the best lead I got so far." The witch-whitelighter walked out the door.

"So how exactly do you and Chris know each other?" Piper asked.

Anakin just smiled. "Like Chris said: you know enough already."

"But—" Leo started but Piper quieted him with a glance.

"Alright, we'll wait and see," Piper stated. "Are you going to be ok?"

"What, with losing my arm?" Anakin asked. "Look, if I could function after losing Lucien, I think I'll be just fine without my left arm."

Piper nodded. "Want to talk about it?"

Anakin shook his head. "Thanks, Mom," he smiled, "but I don't think I'm ready to do that just yet."

"Right," Piper pursed her lips, "then I guess we'll let you get some rest." She and Leo stood up.

Anakin sat up slowly. "Wait, can you stay with me a bit longer?"

Piper sat down. "Sure, sweetie." Wyatt started to cry.

"I'll get him," Leo said softly and walked out the door.

"So how do I get you to sleep in the future?" Piper asked, trying to make light of the situation.

"Just being there, Mom." Anakin said with a yawn. "Aunt Phoebe bores us to death with psychology and Aunt Paige has to sing. But you just have to be there and everything just seems to be right in the world. The demons and warlocks and the rest of the evil beings in the universe don't worry us, because we know that you will always be there to protect us." With that, Anakin closed his eyes and started to snore.

"Sleep well, Anakin." Piper whispered, giving Anakin a soft kiss on the cheek. Anakin's lip twitched into a smile and a look of complete ease came over him. Piper smiled and softly walked out the door.

As Piper shut the door, a small bat appeared outside the window. It opened up of its own accord and the bat flew into the room. It landed on the chair previously occupied by Leo and transformed into a perfectly healthy Jonathan.

"Did not think you could defeat me that easily did you, Annie?" Jonathan whispered.

Jonathan snapped his finger and he transformed into a tiny grey flea. The flea hopped across the bed and onto Anakin. It continued to move until it reached Anakin's hair where it disappeared and settled down for its free trip.

The time portal opened up and the Charmed Ones gazed into the swirling sparkles of blue and white.

"You sure this will work?" Piper asked Chris.

"No," Chris answered honestly, "But it's our best option."

"I don't like the sound of that," Piper said. "Maybe we should try and brew a potion or something."

Anakin stepped up to his mother. "Mom, stop worrying about me. I'll be fine, especially without that lunatic chasing after me."

"But he won't be…" Leo started up but Chris elbowed him in the stomach, shutting him up.

"Always wanted to do that," Chris said with a smile. "If it doesn't work, the same exact spell should bring you back here."

"I know," Anakin said giving Chris a hug. In a soft whisper he said, "And stop worrying about me. You're only egging Mom on."

Anakin let go of the whitelighter and moved to where Phoebe was standing. "Don't give up on finding true love, Aunt Phoebe. Because you will."

"Be safe," Phoebe stated as she pulled Anakin into a hug. "And give me a big hug next time you see me."

"Will do." Anakin said with a smile.

Paige stepped up next. "You got any great advice for me, farmer boy?"

"Farmer boy?" Anakin questioned.

"Subtle Star Wars reference," Paige explained.

Anakin chuckled. "Yeah, you can thank Wyatt for the name."

"Oh," Paige said with a grin, "should I try and convince him to watch Star Trek instead?"

Anakin shook his head. "I love my name, Aunt Paige, although you may want to rethink the name you pick out for one of my cousins. Save her a lot of explaining."

"Oh," Paige gave Anakin a hug. "Is that the only hint you're giving me?"

"You'll know it when it comes down to it," Anakin said. "Although, I will say that the name still fits her perfectly no matter how much she wants to deny it."

Paige nodded and stepped back to allow Leo access to his son. "So how exactly does everything work out that you're mine and Piper's kid?"

"Now, _that_ is a story for the ages," Anakin stated. "But if you take my advice to heart and don't allow this Elder business to go to your head, it'll all work out. I'm going to make sure of that."

Leo nodded and gave Anakin a short hug. "I'll trust you on that one."

Anakin smiled. "You and Mom have survived a lot worse than a divorce, believe me."

Piper smiled. "Don't count on it, mister."

"Well, I certainly don't want to be half-fireman," Anakin joked. "In about three and half years, give Leo a call for my sake."

"I have four kids in the space of five years?" Piper exclaimed.

"And you do a phenomenal job," Anakin pulled Piper into a hug. "Couldn't ask for a better mother. And neither could my brothers, no matter how much they try and tell you otherwise."

Anakin scratched his head. "Well, I guess this is it."

"Good luck." the five beings chorus.

"See ya in a sec." Anakin stated and stepped through the portal.


	6. Hands Down

Hands Down

This time, Anakin was ready for the fallout and braced himself for the impact with the ancient potion's table. He hit the table at full speed sending ingredients and glassware flying across the attic. The blond rolled to his feet, ready to block any mistaken attack from one of his family members but the attic was completely empty. Assured that his mother was not going to pop out from behind the couch and blow him up, Anakin took a deep breath. He rubbed his stump of an arm as he inspected the attic.

It was still cluttered with junk that the family was not quite ready to throw out yet, but the lack of baby toys and the crib proved that he had at least arrived in a time without anyone having a baby. The fact that the family tree was now framed and the Book of Shadows still sat on its pedestal in the corner instead of in the center gave Anakin even more hope that he had arrived in the right time. The final clue was the massive bookshelf against wall furthest from the windows. Leo had built that bookshelf when Wyatt had entered high school so that the family would have space for all the textbooks that they expected Wyatt to collect. The thought brought a fleeting smile to Anakin's pale face.

"I guess they aren't here." Anakin muttered to himself.

Suddenly, the room was filled with blue orbs and Anakin froze as a younger Wyatt rematerialized out of the blue orbs followed by a barely covered girl. Anakin shook his head and cleared his throat loudly.

"Da—" Wyatt started but paused when he spotted Anakin. "What happened to you?"

"Err," Anakin looked at the girl and blushed, vaguely recognizing her as Wyatt's sophomore year girlfriend. "Where are Mom and Dad?"

"Still at the movies, I hope." Wyatt stated, looking Anakin up and down. "Alright, you're obviously not my little brother from this timeline, so start explaining before I start vanquishing your sorry ass."

Anakin rolled his eyes. Despite wanting to run up to Wyatt and never let him go, his dislike of Amber was overwhelming. "Go keep your girlfriend warm, Wy. I'm going to look for Mom."

Anakin started to orb out but Wyatt stopped him mid orb. "Like hell I'm letting you get away, Anakin. Tell me!"

"Uhm … Wy? I think I should go," Amber trailed off.

Wyatt looked over at Amber and glanced back down at Anakin with a look of anger.

"Don't give me that look, Wy," Anakin retorted, pulling his shoulder out of the older boy's grip. "I'm not requiring you to give up getting laid. That's all _your_ idea."

Wyatt glared at Anakin. "Watch your mouth, Anakin!" He turned back to his date and his demeanor softened. "I think that would be best." He glanced back at Anakin before continuing, "Want to go back to your house or the club?"

Amber shrugged, "My parents aren't expecting me back for another two hours." She shrugged once again. "I guess the club; Amanda and Emily should still be there."

Wyatt nodded. He glanced over his shoulder and his blue eyes hardened with distrust. "I'll be right back, so don't think of slipping out of here, you little punk."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Anakin drawled as he watched the two disappear. He wandered over to the couch and slumped down into it. He was finally in the right place; now he needed to figure out how he was going to change everything for the better. "Took you long enough," he muttered as Wyatt orbed back into the attic.

Wyatt shrugged the comment off. In a more concerned voice than he had used previously he asked, "So am I supposed to just take it for granted that you are actually my brother and not some demon trying to pull a fast one?"

"Think whatever you'd like Wyatt," Anakin stood up and went toe-to-toe with him. "But I doubt any demon would risk being this close to you and not have an athame in its hand."

Wyatt stared into Anakin's eyes and his shoulders sank. "Fine, I'll take your word … for now." He turned around and strode over to the Book. "What happened to you?"

Anakin walked over and placed his remaining hand on the Book, stopping Wyatt from opening it. "Demon almost killed me but Mom stopped him from chopping off my head." Anakin held up his stump. "Not a bad trade off, if you ask me."

Wyatt looked up at Anakin and sighed. "Alright, so no demon hunting." Both brothers sat back down on the couch. "So when are you from?"

"About three years into the future," Anakin said with a sigh, "give or take a couple of days, hopefully."

Wyatt nodded slowly, staring at the family tree on the opposite wall. Slowly he turned his head so that his eyes met Anakin's expectant gaze. The older teen bit his lip. "Why did you come back here?"

Now it was Anakin's turn to avoid Wyatt's stare. "Because…" Anakin started, but then fell silent, his voice threatening to fail him. The blond cleared his throat. "I think I need to talk to Mom and Dad about that first."

Wyatt examined Anakin with a critical eye. Anakin sat silently with a small smile curving his lips, waiting for Wyatt to make a decision. Slowly Wyatt stood up and looked down at Anakin. "Suit yourself. I can't exactly force you to tell me." He offered Anakin a hand. "Want something to eat while you wait for the folks to get back?"

Anakin took Wyatt's hand. "As long as you're not the cook," Anakin half joked. It was a well-known fact that Wyatt was absolutely hopeless in the kitchen.

"Funny, Anakin." Wyatt stated sarcastically. "But in all seriousness I think Prue is home and I'm sure she won't mind whipping something up for her favorite brother."

"Prue's here?" Anakin frowned. "Wonder why she didn't come to investigate the crash." He muttered the last part mostly to himself.

Wyatt grinned, "Probably because she's not allowed near the Book. Something to do with her giving a boy a love potion."

"Oh!" Anakin's eyes widened. "I'm _that_ close?"

"Uh," Wyatt raised an eyebrow, "care to explain?"

Anakin shook his head and opened the attic door. "Just wasn't expecting to arrive the day before Prue's birthday … thought I gave myself more time than that."

"How do you know it's the day before Prue's birthday?" Wyatt questioned, intrigued.

Anakin tried to walk around Wyatt but the older teen grabbed hold of his shoulders. Anakin sighed, defeated. "Because I remember having her make that potion for me." Anakin admitted, not able to keep the guilt out of his tone. "And I remember never owning up to it."

"Oh," Wyatt chuckled, "Who's your love interest of the week – no, wait! – you're only eight!" Wyatt pulled a disgusted face.

"Get over it." Anakin muttered. "Growing up with you and Chris, what did you really expect from me?"

"So it's our fault you're – err," Wyatt fell silent. "Ok, I suggest we move onto a less creepy topic."

And Anakin completely agreed. He looked Wyatt in the eyes and smiled. "So when exactly were you going to mention to Mom that you're going out with the darklighter?"

"Excuse me!" Wyatt yelled, running after Anakin who had dashed down the passage to avoid the vengeance of the older blond. Wyatt caught up with Anakin at the bottom of the stairs. "What gives you the right to call her that?"

"Perhaps the fact that she is almost going to get me killed," Anakin said with just enough venom to cause Wyatt to take a step back. Anakin took a deep breath. "But like I said, I need Mom and Dad's advice before I spill all. Where's Prue?"

Wyatt swallowed hard and looked around. "Don't know – she is usually watching _Bones: Los Angeles_ on Wednesdays."

"Can't you sense her?" Anakin questioned. He had been too nervous to try out any of his powers in case he did not have any and for other reasons as well. He cringed even as he flexed his fingers.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "She cloaks herself most of the time just like you and Chris – it's rather annoying; especially if a demon attacks."

"Demons?" Anakin frowned, "There shouldn't be any demon attacks – at least not yet."

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah, the Underworld is still keeping its distance from Mom and our aunts, but that doesn't mean innocents aren't being attacked. And on occasion I might lead one or two of the pissed off pests back to the Manor."

Anakin nodded in acknowledgement. "So is everyone coming to the party tomorrow?" Anakin asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

Wyatt nodded. "At least that's all I got out of Mom. She's being very secretive about the whole thing."

"Probably because she knows you're bound to blow the whole _surprise_ thing," Anakin taunted, opening up random cupboards and scratching around them.

"Once!" Wyatt complained, sitting down on the stool by the island. "I let it slip _once_!"

Anakin nodded absentmindedly and then his head disappeared into one of the cupboards. He continued to speak, his voice muffled and difficult to hear over the shuffling of boxes. "Once is more than enough for Mom to condemn you for the rest of your life; surely you knew that."

Wyatt grumbled a curse and ran his hand through his hair. "So are you really going to wait until you talk to Mom and Dad?" Wyatt inquired, deciding to pry one more time.

Anakin popped out of the cupboard with a huge grin on his face. With a nod, "You know, you could be helpful and go find out where Prue got to."

Wyatt rolled his eyes at the obvious attempt to dodge the question. "Thanks for the suggestion, but the last time I knocked on her bedroom door I got thrown out the window."

"What!" Anakin stated, bewildered but with an obvious tinge of sarcasm. His grin grew as he continued, "And here I thought Prue was a pacifist. Tut, tut: I had such high hopes for the girl, too." Even as he joked Anakin's stomach twisted into knots. Tomorrow was the last day he had seen his sister alive.

Sensing Anakin's discomfort, Wyatt tactfully changed the subject. "Make the cookies," Wyatt proposed, orbing the box to the front of the cupboard Anakin was looking in. In a cheerful, loving voice the blond jested, "And I think she's a pacifist unless it has to do with me."

"Oh, don't be such a big baby," Anakin shot back but lacked the joy that had been in his voice moments before. "You know she loves you even if she has an – _interesting_ way of showing it." Anakin brought his head back out of the fridge. "You kind of need eggs to make cookies, Wy."

Wyatt waved his hand and a carton of eggs appeared on the counter. "Why are you so goddamned impossible to not listen to?"

Anakin smiled, picking up two eggs from the carton. "Being the baby certainly helps," Anakin broke the first egg on the corner of the bowl with expert skill. "But I like to think it's a gift of mine."

"You said that the last time I asked you," Wyatt muttered, handing him the wooden spoon.

Anakin took the offered instrument. "Dad always says that 'great minds think alike.'"

"Your head is getting to be bigger than that prick, Robin's." Wyatt stated warningly.

"And you should watch your language." Anakin returned, not looking up from the box. He casually waved the egg-covered spook over his head. "Mom would have your hide if she heard you talking to me like that." He shook the spoon in admonishment, spraying Wyatt with raw egg yolk.

Wyatt wiped the sticky mess off his face before nonchalantly magically cleaning up the rest of the yellow goop from Piper's immaculately clean kitchen. "Where does she think I learn the words from?" Wyatt shot back once the job was done.

Anakin shook his head. "Somehow, Wy," Anakin paused to read the instructions on the box yet again, "I don't think she'll take _that_ as an excuse."

Wyatt's shoulders slouched and he gave an overdramatic sigh. "Alright, I surrender." Wyatt said with a smile. "But tell me this: how are you going to prove yourself to Mom and Dad?"

Anakin bit his lip and shrugged melodramatically. "You seemed to have no problem believing it's me." Anakin paused as he turned on the electric mixer, giving up on the wooden spoon ages ago. "Besides," Anakin paused and looked up at Wyatt, "they've already seen me once."

Wyatt's eyes widened in shock. "When?"

"No need to shout," Anakin whispered. He had turned off the mixer the moment Wyatt had opened his mouth. Wyatt shook his head and waited for Anakin to continue. Anakin took the bowl out from under the whisk. "When you were two – problem with time travel and all."

"Yeah, _sure_. See, your story is getting more and more difficult to believe." Wyatt pointed out, orbing the cookie dough to his end of the island.

Anakin rolled his eyes. He walked over to the oven and switched it off. On his way back to the island he picked up two spoons. The younger brother pulled over the remaining stool and promptly sat down, handing Wyatt his spoon. "So what do you think will make them believe me?"

Wyatt swallowed the spoonful of dough he had stuffed into his mouth before answering. "I don't know – show them your powers. Or tell them a story only you would know – or you could…" He trailed off.

"You're a fat lot of help," Anakin complained, idly twiddling his spoon between his fingers. "I don't know if my powers work and a demon could easily find out any of our family secrets. It's not like we're not the most watched magical family this side of the _Harry Potter_ universe." The last part was laced in sarcasm.

Wyatt chuckled. "So?" he said licking his spoon clean. "Couldn't hurt to try."

Anakin sighed and took a deep breath. He raised his hand out in front of his chest and struggled to keep it from trembling with fear. "Toaster!" He called out, shutting his eyes. The toaster disappeared and reappeared in Anakin's palm. Anakin peeked out of one eye and sighed with relief. "Good enough for you?" Anakin shook his hands after placing the toaster safely on the counter.

Wyatt moved his head from side to side. "Half-whitelighter half-witches are almost as common as rabbits these days." Wyatt paused and looked at Anakin expectantly. "But if you _are_ Annie, then there are only _three_ mortals who have Elder blood running through their veins."

Anakin paled and his Adam's apple visibly wobbled as he gulped. "And as you very well know Wyatt, the only Elder power I inherited is too destructive to just show off with," Anakin said warily. "Unless you are volunteering." He added jokingly hoping Wyatt would drop the subject.

"Funny, Anakin," Wyatt said standing up, "but I would prefer not to be electrocuted today." The older blond walked over to fridge and emerged with a ripe watermelon. "But I'm sure you can do your worst on this baby."

"Fine," Anakin raised his hand and concentrated on creating only a small spark. His hand tingled as his power interacted with his nerve endings. Suddenly there was a burst of energy, followed by the terrible burning that always resulted after the attack. "Proved myself?" Anakin asked as he spat out a hunk of smoking watermelon.

Wyatt once again had the kitchen spic-and-span in a second. "Err," Wyatt nodded slowly, "yeah. Although," he continued even more slowly, "it usually doesn't hurt the little you so much."

Anakin rubbed his hands together hoping it would help with the tingling in his palms. Anakin bit his lip and looked down at the floor. "That's probably because I've not taken my meds for over two weeks, now."

Whatever Wyatt was expecting, this was not it. The older boy's face paled and his eyes grew extremely wide and concerned. "Why?" Wyatt lifted Anakin's chin up. "Don't you know you could die!"

"Of course I do," Anakin stated wearily, turning away from Wyatt and vainly fighting back the tears. "But if you'd been what I've been, through you wouldn't want to carry on living, either."

Wyatt frowned. "You decided to commit suicide." His voice grew angry.

"Passive suicide, I believe it's called." Anakin said in a distant voice, his eyes glazing over. "Magic is not worth living with if it kills everyone you love, don't you think?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Still doesn't give you the right to commit suicide, Anakin." He grabbed Anakin's shoulder and shook the boy roughly trying to get him to respond.

"Oh, give it a break," Anakin snapped defensively, removing himself from Wyatt's grip. "I wasn't going to let it kill me. Just wanted the damn Elders to see the pain they were putting me through before I stripped myself of my powers…but then this avenue opened itself up and, well, I didn't have time to grab a bottle."

This seemed to calm Wyatt down slightly and the older boy began to pace the kitchen. Finally, he stopped, looking at Anakin. "My Anakin has some extras in case of an emergency," Wyatt carefully stated, placing a hand on Anakin's shoulder and squeezing gently.

"No," Anakin shook his head. "I'll need those in the future. The disease is not as deadly now that I've started to mature. My body can more readily handle the stress – I'll just have to be careful to not exert myself, again."

"But you don't have your full powers yet in this time…" Wyatt started but trailed off as Anakin continued to shake his head.

"I would prefer to still be alive to be able to come back here," Anakin walked away from Wyatt. Anakin smiled sadly. "Besides, if I do this right, I won't exist anymore." With that he orbed out, leaving behind a very confused and worried fifteen-year-old Wyatt.

"_Wyatt Mathew Halliwell! Get your ass down here!" shouted Piper up the stairway. Piper started to walk back to the dining room and jumped as blue orbs materialized directly in front of her._

"_If you think that type of language will get me to listen to you," Wyatt started as he finished orbing into the foyer, "then you've learned nothing about me."_

_Piper rolled her eyes and gave Wyatt her characteristic don't-mess-with-me smirk. "Just because you're eighteen, young man, doesn't mean I can't blast you into a billion little orbs and keep you like that. We'd save thousands on the electricity bill." She nonchalantly threatened as the two made their way to the dining room. Before Wyatt could retort, she continued in a much more serious tone. "We've got company and _you're_ holding up dinner."_

_Wyatt spotted Lucien and smiled knowingly. "Oh," Wyatt stretched the syllable out, "all you had to say was Lucien was here and I would have been the first to the table."_

"_Sorry Wy," Lucien said smoothly looking up at the still standing teen. "You're not my type."_

"_Ahh," Wyatt's smirk grew, "so what exactly _is_ your type?"_

_Anakin threw Wyatt a dirty look that went unnoticed by everyone in the room._

_Lucien gave a shrug. "Well…" His voice trailed off. "No," he shook his head, "I think I'll keep you guessing." _

"_Well," Piper interrupted the budding argument, "now that everyone is here, let's start dishing up. Leo, can you help me in the kitchen?" _

_Leo looked up and Piper flicked her head impatiently toward the kitchen. "I … guess so," Leo stated, confused._

_Once the two adults were out of the room, Wyatt chuckled. "Looks like Mom's on to you two," he teased._

_Anakin closed his eyes and threw his head back. Lucien discretely gave Anakin's knee a comforting squeeze. "And how exactly is that supposed to help?"_

_Lucien shrugged. "Whoever told you I was the one with the answers?"_

"_Some boyfriend, Annie." Wyatt mocked._

"_Not a good time, Wy," Chris warned before leaning back in his chair. _

"_Can you hear anything?" Anakin asked. His voice was muffled since he had his head hidden under his arms on the table._

"_Not anything discernable." Chris said with a sigh. "Sorry, Annie, but you knew it would have come out eventually. I mean, you and Lucien aren't the most discreet people in the world."_

"_It's been six months and they've not suspected anything so far," Anakin whined in defeat._

_Lucien nodded, "Although I'm not altogether sure why you're the one worrying about this. I'm the one your Mom is going to take her anger out on…and I'm not equipped with that little magical force-field you've got."_

"_Oh, boo-hoo," Anakin half-snapped. "I'm not the one who screwed up."_

"_And sometimes I wonder why I go out with you," Lucien retorted playfully._

"_I think I'm going to be sick." Wyatt stated just as Piper and Leo strode back into the room._

"_Lucien, sweetie, could I talk to you for a moment?" Piper asked in her soft no-nonsense tone._

"_Err," Lucien looked at the three Halliwell brothers, all of whom were being careful not to meet his eyes. "Sure – Piper."_

_Leo sat down at the table and indicated that Wyatt should do the same. "Alright, your mom wants me to talk to you about – um…" Leo trailed off._

"_Homosexuals?" Wyatt finished. "And Dad? Don't. We live in the freaking gay capital of the world. I don't think any of us needs a lecture on this subject."_

"_Wy!" Chris warned, "Let's let Dad actually speak for once."_

"_Uhmm, yeah, thanks!" Leo cleared his throat. "So … Lucien wasn't just kidding?"_

"_No," Anakin said quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. "We've all known for some time."_

"_Oh," Leo frowned. "And none of you have any questions?"_

"_Dad," Chris stated definitively, "we've all been through or are going through sex-ed in school. Believe me: we know way more than we would want to know on the subject."_

"_Magic School is really that graphic?" Leo questioned._

"_It's not like they show us porn, Dad!" Wyatt said, looking over at Anakin. His expression clearly said that Anakin would be doing Wyatt's chores for the older teen because of this. Anakin simply smiled weakly before tuning back into the conversation. "…they are very explicit about the topic, as per your orders."_

"_Yes—no," Leo paused, "wait. I meant that to be about magic, not—not … _this_."_

_Chris clapped Leo on the back and with a smile said, "We all warned you to be specific."_

_Anakin breathed a soft sigh of relief and…_

Anakin stood at the top of the Golden Gate Bridge watching the remnants of the full moon disappear behind the massive storm front blowing over the choppy Pacific Ocean. The blond pre-teen sighed heavily and slumped to the cold metal floor, leaning against the rising spire. He flexed his fingers gingerly and cringed as the needle-sharp pain shot up his arm. He closed his eyes and focused on the small pebble next to him. The pain increased as he focused his will on lifting the pebble off the metal. The pebble wobbled off the metal a couple of inches before falling back down with a metallic clunk.

"Damn it!" Anakin yelled. "Can't even lift a pebble two inches!" He stood up and turned his head to the skies. "You guys freaking suck!"

Blue orbs appeared in front of him, causing Anakin to jump and nearly fall off the edge. Wyatt reached out and grabbed Anakin by the front of his shirt. "You should be more careful there, Annie."

"What are you doing here?" Anakin inquired, regaining his balance and moving away from Wyatt and the edge.

Wyatt shrugged, tossing the pebble Anakin had been practicing with into the water hundreds of feet below. "Just thought you would like to know that Mom and Dad are almost home."

"I know," Anakin stated softly, turning away from Wyatt. "I can sense them."

"So … aren't you going to talk to them now?" Wyatt inquired. When Anakin remained silent, Wyatt took a step closer and in a worried voice asked, "What the hell can be so bad that it would make you willing to do this to yourself?"

"Not now!" Anakin spun around, glaring at Wyatt and wishing the powerful witch would simply drop the subject. In an effort to get his wish, Anakin softened his tone and questioned, "Shouldn't you be out looking for Prue by now?"

"Why?" Wyatt asked innocently. "She's probably off with her boyfriend."

"And you don't think Mom is going to be annoyed to find out you let her go?" Anakin reminded.

"I was at the club, remember? I'm not on the hook for her gallivanting all over town. I'm not my sister's keeper." Wyatt said slyly. He took another step closer and looked into the blue orbs that so closely resembled his own. "You're not getting out of this, Annie. I've had Chris for a brother longer than you have. You can't worm your way out of this."

Anakin nodded in defeat. His shoulders sagged and he appealed to Wyatt's need to keep his siblings safe. "I know," Anakin whispered. "Just not now, ok? I'm sore and I'm tired."

"So what are you going to tell Mom and Dad?" Wyatt asked, finally closing the gap between himself and the weary looking Anakin.

Anakin closed his eyes and wiped away a tear. "That they'll have to wait until the morning."

"Are you crying?" Wyatt asked, perplexed.

Anakin shook his head furiously. "Trust you to be the one I had to meet in the attic."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wyatt defensively asked.

Anakin looked up at Wyatt. "Just that: It could have been a lot worse, but it could not have been any better."

"Maybe you should go to bed, Annie." Wyatt said with concern. "You're beginning to not make any sense."

Anakin faked a yawn and in a much less emotional voice said, "like I said – I'm tired."

"Let's orb back to the Manor," Wyatt offered a hand. "Err, you—_this_ _time_ you, I mean—are having a sleep over so his – ah – your room is free." Wyatt half smiled.

"Thanks," Anakin said taking Wyatt's hand, "and don't worry: it'll get easier to figure out the whole verbage thing." And together they orbed out.

"Anakin!" Piper exclaimed as Wyatt and Anakin orbed into the kitchen of the Manor. "When did you get here?"

"A while ago," Anakin said timidly. "I would've gotten to you sooner but I got to talking with Wyatt."

"No, no," Piper gave Wyatt a short hug, "that is fine. It's been a while."

"Not for me," Anakin explained, "but yeah, last time I was here, you only knew of two sons."

"I'll talk to you about that later," Piper said, checking her watch, "but for now I am off to bed. I have that interview with that guy who wants to franchise the restaurant and then I have Prue's birthday dinner to prepare."

"Hey, Dad," Anakin greeted Leo with a hug. "I totally agree with Mom on this one. Let's leave the whole big grilling thing for the morning, please." He gave both his parents his best puppy dog eyes.

Leo chuckled and ruffled Anakin's hair. "Fine by me, but mister, you're going to need to explain everything in the morning. And I mean _everything_."

"Like Dad will ever get a word in edgewise," Wyatt muttered as his parents started up the stairs.

"I heard that." Piper warned.

"Aren't you going to tell them about Prue?" Anakin whispered.

"No," Wyatt said evenly, "no use worrying them or getting my head bitten off. She'll be fine."

"She's only turning elven, Wy." Anakin stated. "And it is past ten o'clock on a school night. I'm sorry, but that just isn't safe."

"And whatever happens only happens tomorrow," Wyatt said, waving Anakin to keep quiet. "Look, you know Prue isn't stupid enough to go down without a fight. And if she gets into a fight she always calls in backup; namely, me."

Anakin bit his lip. "Well – can't argue with you that something does happen tomorrow, but doesn't mean something isn't going to happen today."

"If you're so worried about her," Wyatt said looking Anakin directly in his eyes, "_you_ go find her."

Anakin nodded. "Point taken. But promise me you'll go find her if she's not here by twelve."

"That," Wyatt ruffled Anakin's hair affectionally, "I can do."

"Then I'm going to lie down and try and get this pain to subside. It's usually worse when I'm tired." Anakin waved a lazy hand over his head as he slowly climbed up the stairs yawning. "Night, Wy."

"See you in the morning, bright and early, Annie." Wyatt called is a sickly sweet voice.

Anakin just huffed and continued dragging his feet up the stairs.

"So do we get to hear the entire story yet?" Piper asked Anakin as he sat down next to her in the dining room. "Or are you still worried about the future consequences?"

Anakin nodded slowly. "I'll tell you everything, but I want Wyatt to hear it as well."

"Wyatt?" Leo questioned as he handed Anakin a cup of tea. "Why does he need to hear this?"

Anakin took a sip of tea and leaned back in the chair. "Because he's going to want to know Dad, and it'll be easier to tell the story to everyone that can handle it rather than repeating it twenty zillion times."

"Do you think he can handle it, sweetie?" Piper asked softly.

Anakin swallowed hard. "From what I've seen of what Wyatt's capable, of I'd say yes. It will be a burden," Anakin trailed off and stared off into space. "I truly don't know Mom, but I have to trust my gut. You, Aunt Paige, and Aunt Phoebe, aren't going to be able to help me much, but Wyatt might be able to at least orb me out of danger."

"Why won't we be able to help?" Piper inquired. "Wyatt's only fifteen."

"And I'm only eleven!" Anakin snapped. "You're going to be busy with other problems. Wyatt's going to want to help – he has this obsession with making sure all of his younger siblings and cousins are safe. And if he's going to be following me around, I think he at least needs to know what he's up against and the consequences if I screw up this chance at changing everything."

"You are far too much like Chris," Piper said with a smile. "Neurotic and stubborn."

Anakin laughed half-heartedly, "So a nice clean mixture of Halliwell and Wyatt blood." Leo and Piper chuckled. "Alright," Anakin started after another couple of minutes, "I think we've put off the inevitable as long as possible. _Wyatt!_"

Wyatt orbed in, still solely clad in his favorite blue boxers and his hair still a bird's next. "What's up and can't it wait until noon-ish?"

"I'm about to spill my beans," Anakin stated slowly, "and Mom has that interview in an hour so no, it can't wait."

Wyatt stretched and yawned. He snapped his neck to which both Piper and Anakin cringed. "Well, can I at least wash my face?"

"Ice water!" Anakin called, pointing his finger at Wyatt. Blue orbs appeared right above Wyatt's head and a bucket of ice tipped its contents onto the unsuspecting teen. Wyatt took a gasping breath and glared at Anakin beneath sopping blond locks who quickly waved his hand, orbing a towel to Wyatt. "That help?"

"Why's the floor not wet?" Piper asked, glancing around the table.

"Back in the bucket," Anakin explained. "It's a well established fact that you don't like to clean up after one of our pranks."

Wyatt finished drying his hair. "I would so get you back if…" he trailed off.

"I'm fine, Wyatt." Anakin said with a fake smile. "Really, I am."

"Ok," Wyatt stated in a tone that clearly showed he did not believe a word of what Anakin had just said.

Anakin turned his attention back to his mom. "Ok, today is Prue's eleventh birthday and also the day that Magic invades your life once again." Anakin smiled sorrowfully. "In my timeline tonight, Prue, Uncle Henry, and Henry Jr. are killed," Anakin paused as Piper gasped and Wyatt accidentally caused a glass vase to explode. "They are killed by darklighters and other upper-level demons. Following that, demons continue to attack over the next three years until the only ones left are you, Mom and you, Dad; and Wyatt, Chris, and myself." He looked pointedly at all the present persons at the table.

"But how?" Piper interrupted.

Anakin closed his eyes and exhaled to calm down. "Demons, car accidents, just stuff like that. None of us ever expected for us to live out our lives without some death. I mean, this generation has ten powerful witches, all of whom are prime targets for anyone in the Underworld trying to make a name for themselves. Plus, you and Phoebe and Paige hardly made a great name for yourselves: a lot of demons are just waiting to get revenge on the Charmed Ones."

"But we're through," Piper argued, getting angry. "We fought the big battle and we won."

"I know, Mom," Anakin said in a calming tone, "but that doesn't mean a thing to the son of a demon you vanquished. A lot of the demons you ended up dealing with were not the average mindless drones. Most of these had highly defined social structures and some even had the resemblance of family ties. No one can be a hero without having enemies and, in our case, those enemies have a nasty habit of getting their way every once in awhile."

"So we sent you back here?" Leo asked. "By yourself? That doesn't sound right."

"No," Anakin shook his head. "You guys didn't send me back here." Anakin took a deep breath. "About a week before I left, a massive attack occurred here in the Manor and it claimed your life, Dad. Then another demon came in masquerading as a cop and killed you, Mom." Anakin stopped and tried to clear his throat. His cheeks were wet with tears.

"Oh, sweetie," Piper pulled Anakin into a hug, "I'm sure you did everything you could, but if it was our time, then—"

Anakin nodded and pulled himself out of Piper's embrace. "I went to stay with Grandpa and everything was quiet for a week. But then Jonathan, that demon you saw me vanquish, tricked Wyatt and Chris into thinking that Lucien, my boyfriend," Anakin clarified for Wyatt, "was actually the reincarnated Source of All Evil." Anakin looked across at Wyatt. "You and Chris came over to Grandpa's and tried to prove to me that Lucien was in fact the person who had ordered Dad and Mom's deaths but I wouldn't listen. You guys attacked Lucien and I stopped you," Anakin's voice broke and his hand shook. "I stopped you and in the process, killed both of you." Anakin sobbed, "I'm sorry."

"You what!" Wyatt shouted jumping up from his seat. "How could you?"

Anakin shook his head, "I'm so sorry Wy, but I had to protect Lucien. He was an innocent."

"Are you freaking kidding me!" Wyatt screamed, ignoring his father's attempts to calm him. The table began to rattle violently and anything made of glass or clay shattered instantaneously. "You killed me in order to keep your lover alive! Are you sick or just plain stupid?"

Anakin's breath caught in his throat and he turned away, hiding his tears.

Piper bit her lip. "Wyatt sweetie, sit down and let Anakin explain."

"Explain?" Wyatt glared at his mother incredulously. "Explain what, _mother_? He _murdered_ Chris and I—_his own brothers!_ There is _nothing_ left to explain." With that, he orbed out, which was an impressive stunt, considering how livid he was.

Anakin shuddered and slid off the chair and onto the floor under the table. Piper looked at Leo and cocked her head toward the stairs. Leo stood up and obeyed her implication. Piper got off her chair and got down on her knees.

"Annie," she whispered softly, "what happened after that?"

Anakin stayed crying on the floor. "I'm sorry, Wy – I'm sorry!"

"I know you're sorry sweetie," Piper rubbed Anakin's back gently. "And Wyatt will come to understand it as well. But I want to know the rest."

"Lucien was captured and Jonathan threatened Grandpa's life," Anakin sniffed. "I sold myself to Jonathan in return for Grandpa's and Lucien's protection. When we met the Source, there was an argument. Jonathan took me and Lucien back to the Manor – there was a fight – Lucien was killed – and I escaped into the time portal." Anakin looked at his mom. "I'm really sorry, Mom. I should've been able to protect them – I should've just convinced them about Lucien. I'm sorry."

Piper wrapped an arm around Anakin and pulled him close. "You did your best, sweetie. And now, you have a chance to change all that. You can make sure it doesn't ever happen."

"But what if I can't?" Anakin voiced his worst fear. "What if all of this is meant to be? Mom, I can't live without my brothers – I lost Prue and you and Dad – I can't lose them as well!"

Piper stroked Anakin's hair to calm him. "But you can't live without Lucien either, can you?"

"Lucien loves me," Anakin said softly. "He gave up his life so that I could make it back here. I don't think I could allow Wyatt and Chris to kill him."

Piper nodded. "Alright, well, we'll deal with that if it ever comes to that again. But … there's something else bugging me. Are you gay right now?"

Anakin looked at Piper with both eyebrows raised. "You mean the little me?" Piper nodded. "Well, uh – I don't have anyone special now if that's what you're worried about. But the little me is definitely figuring out that he isn't attracted to girls."

"Oh," Piper mouthed. "How do I deal with it?"

"You didn't," Anakin admitted. "I never told you. I spoke about it with Grandpa and made him swear to never tell you or Dad."

"Why not?" Piper asked, still rubbing Anakin's back.

"I was worried," Anakin said with a chuckle. "Wyatt and Chris both flipped out when I told them about it. I knew that Dad probably would go ballistic so I simply pretended to be straight. Although both you and Dad accepted Lucien coming out quite comfortably, I just couldn't bring myself to tell you. I didn't want to disappoint you."

"You could never disappoint me," Piper lovingly affirmed. After a few moments of silence Piper asked, "Do you have any idea how to stop all of this?"

"No clue," Anakin said honestly. "I'm going to start with making sure Prue and both Henrys don't die tonight." They fell silent. Anakin slowly broke the silence after a while. "You know, you can go a bit crazy about me killing Wyatt and Chris. It's not like I'm not expecting it."

"I think," Piper said giving Anakin a kiss on the forehead, "that you've beaten yourself up quite enough about it. You're going to figure out a way that neither Lucien nor your brothers die and, sweetie, that is good enough for me."

Anakin looked up at the ceiling. "Do you think Wyatt will forgive me?"

Piper looked up at the ceiling as well. "He'd better, or he's grounded for the rest of the school year. You can't be mad about something that hasn't happened yet. The future might have already changed simply by you being here and warning us."

"Thanks, Mom." Anakin said giving Piper one more hug. "I think I should go explain things to Wyatt."

"Before you go," Piper stated as she got to her feet with a huff. "What does Wyatt know that I don't?"

Anakin looked away from Piper, betraying his guilt. "Nothing, Mom."

"Anakin Pearson Halliwell!" Piper's tone stopped Anakin in his tracks. "Don't you dare try and lie to your mother."

Anakin rubbed his hands over his face. "Fine, Mom," he said exasperatedly. "He knows something that you don't, alright. But it's not important."

Piper placed her hands on her hips and gave Anakin a stern look. "It _is_ something; otherwise, you wouldn't be hiding it from me."

Anakin silently sobbed in annoyance more than anything else. "Mom, drop it, okay? I've just relived the worst experience of my life and I don't need you grilling me at the moment."

Piper walked up to Anakin and smiled. "Sweetie, I'm just trying to help, but I can't if you keep secrets from me."

"I know, Mom," Anakin said with relief, "But it's not important at the moment. I'll tell you when there's time."

Piper nodded slowly. "I'll keep you to that, Annie."

Anakin started up the stairway but stopped halfway up. "Thanks, Mom – for everything." He carried on up the stairs without waiting for a reply.

Anakin reached Wyatt's bedroom door. He reluctantly raised his hand to knock three times. The muffled voices grew silent and the door slowly creaked open.

"Anakin?" Leo asked, his head peering around the door. "What's wrong?"

Anakin gulped. "Nothing, Dad." Anakin paused as Leo came out into the hall, closing the door gently behind him. "I just need to talk to Wyatt: explain myself."

Leo bit his lip. "Maybe you should give him some time to calm down."

Anakin closed his eyes. "He needs to hear what I have to say." Anakin looked at his worried father. "No matter how furious he is with me – he's not going to kill me, Dad. I'll be fine – physically, at least."

"Ok," Leo said, slowly stepping out of Anakin's way. "Do you want me to…?" he trailed off.

"Thanks for the offer Dad," Anakin said with a half-smile that couldn't mask the fear in his eyes. "But I think it'd be best if I were alone."

Leo nodded his head, unconvinced. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

"Relax, Dad: I'm still Wyatt's favorite brother." Anakin joked, trying to lighten the mood and calm himself down. He watched Leo disappear around the bend in the hallway before turning to face the ominous door. He placed a trembling sweat-covered hand on the handle. "Wyatt? I-I'm coming in."

"Stay the hell away from me, Anakin!" Wyatt's voice trembled as he screamed.

Anakin stopped pushing the door open and quickly removed his hand from the brass handle. "Wyatt, please. I want to talk – I need to tell you, why."

The door slammed shut nearly crashing into Anakin's nose. "I don't give a – it won't change _anything_!" Wyatt's muffled shouts caused tears to form in Anakin's eyes. "You _killed_ me Anakin! How is anything you say going to make me trust you again? You killed me for some half-assed elemental you had a crush on! I'm your freaking brother!"

Anakin sank to the floor, sobbing. "I know, but you weren't there – you don't know."

The door suddenly opened, dropping Anakin to the floor with a loud thump. "_Know_! What is there to know, Anakin?" Wyatt hissed, dragging the younger boy into his room and shutting the door with a flick of his wrist. "You murdered your own flesh and blood!"

Anakin remained silent, looking up at his livid brother. Wyatt bent down and pulled Anakin off the floor by his hair. "Please, enlighten me as to why _I_ had to _die_!"

Anakin cringed as his head slammed back to the floor. "Because he was there for me, Wy!" Anakin let out a gasp and clasped his hands over his mouth, horrified.

Wyatt's eyes widened, bemused. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked in a dangerous whisper.

Anakin gulped, but knew it was too late to go back. "You and Chris shut yourselves up in the Manor after Mom's death. You didn't phone me for a whole freaking week. But Lucien was there from the moment he found out. He stood with me – he comforted me. Grandpa was there, but he was sick. Lucien was the last person I felt I could lean on. You and Chris wallowed in your own self-doubt and sadness and didn't once think to ask me if I was all right. If I felt the same way as you did." Anakin looked at the shocked Wyatt. "It's foolish, I know, but when you came that day and accused Lucien of-of murdering Mom and Dad, I-I lost it. I saw you trying to take away from me the one thing that was keeping me sane … and I had to stop you."

Wyatt swallowed hard and slumped onto his bed. "Obviously he wasn't keeping you sane enough. You're committing suicide."

"I lied," Anakin whispered, shutting his eyes and causing more tears to roll down his cheeks. "I didn't stop taking the meds; I ran out."

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "So why lie to me?"

"Because," Anakin stated cautiously, his voice still wavering on the brink of tears, "I wish I was dead. Everyone I cared about is dead, Wyatt: You, Mom, Chris, Lucien – Dad. They're all dead. I've got nothing left to live for if this fails."

"And this is supposed to make me feel better?" Wyatt finally spoke up.

Anakin got to his knees, shaking his head. "No, Wy, but at least you have an inkling of what I was going through." Anakin got to his feet and wiped his face on his sleeve. "I don't expect you to forgive me, Wyatt. Hate me all you want, but don't, for a second, blame your Anakin. He's done nothing to you and believe me, if you show a glimmer of distaste for him, it will crush him." Anakin started toward the door.

"I don't hate you, Annie." Wyatt whispered, giving Anakin pause.

Anakin shook his head vacantly, determinedly not looking at his brother. "But you don't forgive me either." He prompted turning around.

Wyatt shook his head. "I can't forgive something that I don't understand. I need time, Annie." Wyatt took a deep breath. "Can't expect anyone to hear that you murder them and for them to just accept it on the spot."

"Fine," Anakin paused, "but can you at least help me?"

Wyatt looked up. "With what?"

"Stopping this attack," Anakin said, sitting down at Wyatt's desk. "It happens tonight and we've got to stop the demons from killing Prue."

Wyatt got up form his bed and walked over to the desk. "So what is your plan?"

A small smile graced Anakin's face. "Well…"

Anakin came out of the room an hour later with a satisfied smile on his face. He kept his head down and walked in the direction of the stairs but halfway down the passage a door opened and a girl ran into him.

"Anakin?" Prue asked. "What happened to you?"

Anakin looked up and his smile grew larger. "Prue!" He forgot all thoughts of his dignity and wrapped his sister in a tight embrace. "Oh, I can't tell you how good it is to see you!"

"Yeah, well," Prue said pushing Anakin off her, "that could be shown a little more helpfully, like telling Mom and Dad the truth about the potion."

Anakin smiled guiltily. "Will do." Anakin took a step back and looked Prue over. She had long brown hair with highlights in it and she had curled it so that it was wavy. Her eyes were the same compassionate hazel of their mother, Piper.

"Anakin, stop it. You're being weird." Prue paused. "When are you from?"

"Three years in the future," Anakin brushed the question over. "But—"

"Three years!" Prue exclaimed. "But surely – do Mom and Dad know you're here?"

Anakin nodded. "Yeah, already spoke to them about everything – well, _mostly_ everything. But enough about me, Prue. Oh God, I can't believe it's actually you!" Anakin grinned from ear to ear.

"Alright," Prue placed a calming hand on Anakin's shoulder. "You're going to scare the neighbors and they already think this family's cracked."

"You're right," Anakin said, taking a breath. "But it's you! It's really you."

"Yup, we've established it's me." Prue said with a smile. "I can't believe my baby brother's as old as I am."

"Ok," Anakin shook his head, "don't need the headache, Prue."

"Oh, big baby!" Prue teased. "So why'd you come back?"

"Er," Anakin bit his lip, "would you buy that it's a spell gone awry?"

"I would have, if you hadn't put it that way." Prue said.

"Drat," Anakin snapped his fingers. "Well, then you don't want to know."

"I'll weasel it out of Wyatt," Prue warned.

"Sorry, Prue," Anakin started to walk away, "but it's only on a need to know basis … and _you_ don't need to know."

"Fine Annie," Prue said with a pout, "but I must warn you that _you're_ not going to be as easily convinced."

Anakin groaned. "I forgot about that."

"How could you forget about meeting yourself?" Prue questioned incredulously. "That's –"

"A major migraine," Anakin concluded. "Is Dad still here?"

"Yeah," Prue said with a nod, "but he's got to go pick you up soon."

"Great to see you, Prue." Anakin said as he disappeared in blue orbs.

Anakin reformed in front of Leo who was heading toward the front door. "Dad! Wait!"

Leo frowned. "Wyatt and you okay?"

"Yeah," Anakin said waving his hand impatiently, "just peachy. Dad, you can't bring younger me home."

Leo's surprise spread across his face before he looked back at Anakin bewildered. "And why exactly is that?"

Anakin flicked his hand sharply as if trying to shake off droplets of water. "Because Dad," Anakin said through pursed lips, "how do you think I'd react to seeing my future self?"

"Well," Leo paused and bit his lip, "probably not all that great."

"That's the understatement of the century and you know it," snapped Anakin. "I've barely been exposed to this whole magic thing – plus the little I do know hasn't precisely made me enjoy the fact that my family's a bunch of witches."

Leo nodded, checking his watch. "I know that you dislike magic but what do you want me to do? He's going to have to come home to get ready for Prue's party."

"I know," Anakin ran his hand through his blond locks. "I just need thirty minutes, Dad."

"To do what?" asked Leo suspiciously.

"Brew the empathy blocking potion," explained Anakin, a little bit more relaxed. "I can glimmer pretty well and with the potion, hopefully, Anakin won't know that I'm … well, _him_."

"Glimmer?" Leo questioned, unconsciously rattling the car keys. "Not even Wyatt has that power."

"Yet," clarified Anakin. "He doesn't have that power _yet_. But that's beside the point. Take Anakin to get ice-cream or something; just buy me thirty minutes."

Leo started toward the door but stopped halfway over the threshold. "Who are you going to glimmer into?"

"My name will be Starbuck Parker," Anakin explained thoughtfully. "Yeah, Wyatt had a pen pal by the last name Parker – I'll be that guy's cousin or whatever."

"Starbuck?" Leo questioned with a laugh.

Anakin just smiled. "Name of my first kid if I ever have one, so get used to it, Dad."

"First _Star Wars_ now _Moby Dick_," Leo muttered, shaking his head. "Can't this family just name some after someone based in reality, like Brian or Drew…" Leo's voice trailed off.

Anakin guided his still thoughtful father out the door. "Don't forget: half an hour." With that said, he shut the door. As soon as he turned around Anakin opened his mouth and yelled, "Wyatt! I need a Kotochu egg!"

Wyatt's response was to orb in front of Anakin or rather nearly on top of the younger teen. "A what?"

"You know," Anakin explained as they walked to the kitchen, "a Kotochu egg." When Wyatt showed no signs of understanding a word Anakin had just said Anakin sighed, stopping his determined march to the pantry. "A Kotochu egg: you know, the special ingredient for the empathy-blocking potion?"

"Still not quite catching your meaning there," Wyatt said. "A Kotochu egg?"

"Yes!" Anakin sighed and pulled at his hair. "Wyatt, I have half an hour to brew this damn potion or else you're going to be out one baby brother. I'd go fetch one myself but with my luck, that orb trip would probably send me into shock or something ridiculous like that."

Wyatt shook his head. "Knew that was coming," he muttered as he orbed out.

"Alright," Anakin took a deep breath, "here goes nothing." He gulped down the blood red potion and gagged as the sludge oozed its way down his esophagus. "Absolutely the worst tasting potion ever invented."

"What'd you expect?" Wyatt asked. "It was made by a tongue-less sorcerer that's as blind as a bat."

Anakin nodded in agreement. "Well, at least it works." He walked up to the mirror Wyatt had conjured for him. "Now, for the real test."

"Are you sure you can handle this?" Wyatt asked in concern.

Anakin nodded, still staring at himself in the mirror. "It's the only way this plan has any chance of working."

"Who's your inspiration again?" Wyatt inquired, stepping up behind Anakin.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "You really need to start acting your age, Wyatt. But for the thousandth time, it's a boy that Lucien had a mild crush on and that I'd glimmered into once as a birthday surprise."

"How … romantic," teased Wyatt.

"Put a sock in it," Anakin snapped playfully. "Be ready to knock me unconscious if this doesn't work – I'd prefer not to feel magic ripping my organs apart."

"I'll be as humane as I possibly can," Wyatt tried to lighten up the deathly situation.

Anakin's skin started to boil and darken a few shades. The sounds of bones snapping and grinding against each other caused Wyatt to pale and turn away. Anakin forced his eyes to remain open as his head became a fluid balloon for a second and his skull bones reformed into a much more square-like form. He noticed for a fact that his jaw was more pronounced. His eyes glowed slightly and become a stormy grey. His hair moved in a nonexistent wind as it shortened and became much darker especially at the roots. Then, the worst of the pain came as Anakin's chopped off arm felt as if it had been put into a hot oven.

Slowly the boiling skin extended itself. As it extended, it seemed to fill with mincemeat, giving it the form of a long pork sausage. Finally, Anakin had to look away as the pain become too intense but when he looked back down at the arm, it looked exactly like his other arm, although it felt a bit lighter. He turned around once just to get ready of the pins-and-needles sensation in his legs and was surprised that he had grown six inches so that he was now officially taller than Wyatt. Satisfied that magic had finished its job, he turned around to face Wyatt.

"So … what do you think?"

Wyatt opened his mouth and wordlessly formed words. "Err – you said I get this power, too?"

Starbuck nodded. "Usually, it doesn't take this long or is this painful," Starbuck rubbed his remade arm unconsciously. "But yeah. Though, you don't use it a lot."

Wyatt nodded slowly. "I wonder why."

"But does it look alright?" Starbuck questioned. "It doesn't look like I'm in someone else's skin?"

Wyatt bent his head to the side to get a different perspective. "I'm no expert, Annie…"

"Starbuck!" Starbuck corrected.

"Fine," Wyatt sighed straightening his neck, "Starbuck, but I would have a hard time spotting that this is just an illusion." Starbuck smiled to reveal a set of pearly white teeth. "Although, _that_ is a dead giveaway."

"What?" Starbuck asked, looking back in the mirror. "Oh," Starbuck blushed, "right, forgot about that." A small twitch of his nose and his teeth were slightly more yellow. "Better?"

Wyatt nodded. "But I should warn you that you need to lose some of your personality quirks. That nose twitching thing for example."

"I don't do it often," Starbuck said with a smile. "Just when it feels right."

"Ok, Samantha," Wyatt joked. "But—"

"I enjoy the show, ok!" Starbuck stated, effectively silencing Wyatt. "I got stuck with the name Anakin because you're obsessed with _Star Wars,_ so unless you want your dirty little secret to become public knowledge in the locker room, I suggest you let the subject die."

"No need to get nasty about it." Wyatt muttered, a bit unnerved.

Starbuck sighed and wiped his hand down his face. "Sorry, Wy; I'm just a little bit stressed. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

Wyatt nodded. "No harm done. And don't fret too much. You underestimate how much you can handle."

"And you overestimate how mature Anakin is," Starbuck retorted.

They heard the sound of Leo's truck pull into the driveway and both brothers looked at each other.

"Showtime." Starbuck whispered and followed Wyatt out of the kitchen.

"…and then there was…" Anakin's voice trailed off. "Er, I thought you said we couldn't have friends over."

Leo nodded. "I did, but Mom made an exception for Starbuck."

"Why?" Anakin whined, stomping his feet. "That is _so_ not fair. You always give Wyatt whatever he wants."

"So not true," Wyatt whispered in Starbuck's ear. "You're the baby of the family."

Starbuck nodded his head slowly. "Glad to finally meet you, Anakin. Your brother has told me so much about you."

"Whatever." Anakin said, turning to face Leo. "Dad, if Wyatt gets to have a friend over then so do I!"

"That's not how it works," Leo started but was drowned out by Anakin's tantrum.

"God!" Starbuck whispered, amazed. "I forgot how annoying I was."

"You're telling me." Wyatt grumbled, slowly lowering his hands from his ears.

"What's Anakin's problem?" Chris questioned, orbing in and spotting Starbuck. "And who's this?"

"Starbuck Parker," Starbuck introduced, extending his hand. "I'm a cousin of Wyatt's pen pal in England."

"Nice to meet you," Chris shook Starbuck's hand. "Anakin throwing a tantrum because he's not allowed any friends over?" Chris questioned Wyatt, eyeing Leo's vain attempt to calm Anakin down.

"You'd think by the age of seven he'd have grown out of this," Wyatt muttered with a smile.

Starbuck glowered. "Can't really blame him. He's going through a difficult time with his powers exposing themselves."

Wyatt nodded. "Well, as long as it doesn't kill him, I can live with it." Wyatt bent over and picked Anakin up by the hand. "Why don't you and I have a little chat while you get ready for Prue's party?"

Leo mouthed 'thank you' and stood up.

"You really need to not be so much of a pacifist, Leo," Starbuck stated, not entirely thinking. "He can sense weakness."

Leo nodded and cut Chris's question off with a simple, "I'll remember that."

Whatever else was going to be said or done was effectively discontinued by Paige, Phoebe, and their respective families orbing into the entrance hall.

"Leo!" Both sisters yelled, giving their brother-in-law hugs.

Then the group noticed the stranger in their midst.

"Uh," Starbuck said awkwardly, "hi?"


	7. Let’s Get the Battle Started

Let's Get the Battle Started

"…Hi." Starbuck stated awkwardly, while inwardly jumping for joy at the sight of his entire family alive and well. Of course he had seen Phoebe and Paige walking and breathing only a day and a half ago but it was the first time he was seeing his beloved uncles. But the real reason he was overjoyed was seeing the smiling, albeit in confusion, faces of his six cousins.

"I thought Piper said it was going to be a family party," Henry, Paige's husband, said accusingly.

Leo chuckled nervously. "Well, she forgot that Wyatt had already made plans to have Starbuck here spend the week. He's from England." His eyes never met any of the adults' eyes.

"And you're _so_ lying." Phoebe admonished, causing Leo to break out into sweat.

"Ha, you always were a funny one Phoebe," Leo rubbed his hands together. "Well, you all better get into the living room before Prue spots you."

"Prue already knows they're here," Prue said running down the stairs. "Payton! So glad you could make it!"

A girl with a short bob and light brown hair smiled and gave the birthday girl a hug. "Prue, I wouldn't miss your birthday if the world came to an end."

Prue broke the hug and gave the rest of her family a huge grin. "Glad you could come, too!"

Both her aunts enveloped Prue in a tight hug, although neither quite took their eyes off Starbuck. Prue, sensing her family's distraction, turned around and spotted Starbuck.

"Now, who are you?" Prue questioned with a sly grin.

Starbuck returned the smirk. "Starbuck Parker, a friend of Wyatt's."

"Oh!" Prue walked over and placed a single finger against Starbuck's chest. "And what exactly gave Wyatt the right to have you over on _my_ birthday?"

Leo started to speak but a quick glance from Starbuck shut him up. "Prue, I'm here because I have business to attend to in the States and your brother was kind enough to offer me room and board whilst I am in your – interesting country."

"Oh," Prue deflated slightly, "so this has nothing to do with my brother showing up this morn…" Prue suddenly started to cough.

Leo practically ran over and patted his daughter firmly on the back. "You ok?"

"Yes," Prue said through coughs. "But I would like a glass of water. Care to follow me … Starbuck, was it?"

"I'm coming, too!" Chris blurted. "Can't be too careful now, can we?" Chris eyed Starbuck suspiciously.

"Right," Leo turned back to the bewildered extended family. "Piper wants all the presents set up in the sunroom. Why…" his voice became distant as Starbuck was frog-marched to the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen, Starbuck broke out of his siblings' grasps. "That is no way—"

"Oh, can it, small fry!" Prue snapped. "I know this has something to do with Anakin showing up this morning, three years older and missing an arm. So, spill before I sic Wyatt on you."

Starbuck sighed and shook his head slowly. "Fine, if you want to know the truth, it's me, Anakin."

"Anakin!" Chris exclaimed, his eyes widening. "So what's with the disguise?"

"I was getting to that," Starbuck said, still in his British accent, "I couldn't really be seen by present-day me, so I decided to make up this disguise in order to prevent myself from going mad."

"So you really are from the future then," Prue said in awe, but she sobered up quickly after glancing at a paling Chris. "Can't be good news then, can it?"

Anakin nodded. "I've told Mom and Dad everything they need to know. So we're figuring things out but for now, please, I'd prefer this remain between us. Don't need the entire family worrying about things they can't change."

Prue nodded in satisfaction. "Usually, I'd hound you for more info, but for now, I'll go along with it. Besides, I've still haven't chosen my outfit for tonight yet." Prue shot Starbuck a smile and disappeared out the swinging kitchen door.

"I'm not as easily distracted," Chris said seriously. "I want to know _everything_."

"No, you don't," Starbuck whispered. "But I'll tell you enough so that you can stop worrying." Chris sat down and waited expectantly; Starbuck sighed and hopped up onto the counter. "I came back to save my – this family. There's nothing you or Prue or anyone else can do, except not be stupid. I've got a plan, and I don't need help."

"This is supposed to stop me from worrying?" Chris said with an arched eyebrow.

Starbuck nodded and smiled in a similar fashion as his mother. "Yes, because if you worry about this, then you're not going to be of any use to us when the battle begins. I need you to do what you do best and that is be precautious but not over the future. I need you to stay focused on the here and now."

"Yip," Chris nodded. "You can definitely cross off pep-talker off your possible career choices."

"Chris!" Starbuck forcefully growled, "I'm not trying to be elusive or glib!"

Chris waved his hand to silence Starbuck. "I get it. You have everything under control and want me to not go diving in front of any fireballs for you. But I want to know why Wyatt gets to know all the details and I don't."

"Because Wyatt is two years older than you, Chris," said Piper, holding a brown satchel filled with groceries on her hip. She threw her second oldest son a hard look. "Now, leave Anakin alone."

"Fine, Mother." Chris pouted and dragged his feet out the kitchen.

"How'd you know?" Starbuck asked, grabbing the bag from Piper.

"Mother's intuition." Piper answered slyly with a smile.

"Dad told you." Starbuck concluded.

Piper nodded and started unloading the bag Starbuck had taken from her. "He thought it'd be best that I didn't blow you up when I saw you. Nice look by the way," Piper commented.

"Hope it works," Starbuck muttered as the kitchen door burst open and two determined looking women strode through the portal.

"Piper, what is going on?" Paige questioned, although she did not remove her accusing eyes off Starbuck.

"Yeah," Phoebe voiced her own concern with the situation but in a less angry tone. "You explicitly told everyone that this was a _family only _affair."

Piper arched an eyebrow dangerously and stared down her younger sisters. "And so you think you can come into _my_ kitchen and shout accusations at me because I changed my mind?"

Paige finally broke eye contact with Starbuck and looked at Piper. "We're not accusing you of anything, Piper." She said in a much more placating voice. "It's just…" she glanced at the middle sister for assistance.

"We're just surprised," Phoebe concluded. "I mean, you're usually pretty serious about any of the kids' birthdays, especially since we've spread out across the country."

"Believe me," Starbuck spoke up despite knowing it would put himself in the spotlight, "I won't be too much trouble."

"Oh," Phoebe cracked a small smile, "that's not what we mean, sweetie. No, like I said," she turned back to face Piper, "we're just surprised at seeing anyone else near the house."

Piper, obviously feeling the need to protect her time-traveling son, called everyone's attention back to herself. "Yes, well, nothing's changed and I still need your help with the preparations." Her tone clearly left no room for argument and the two sisters started unpacking the grocery bags Starbuck had laid on the counter moments earlier. "Starbuck, you can go wait in the living room or up in Wyatt's room if you want to dodge the questions yo—er – I mean Prue's cousins are bound to throw at you. I'm sure Wyatt won't mind the trespassing?"

Starbuck smiled. "I'm positive about it, Piper." With that said he made a beeline for the staircase, careful to not make eye contact with a single member of the extended Halliwell family. He reached Wyatt's room and entered, only to be ambushed by Chris, who shut the door with a gentle movement of his wrist. Another twitch and the sound of the lock sliding into place reached Starbuck's ears.

"You didn't think you'd get rid of me that easily," Chris said with a wry smile. "Did you?"

Starbuck sighed and collapsed into the rolling leather chair that sat in front of Wyatt's ancient desktop. "Fine, Chris. What do you want to know?" Starbuck questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Why are you here?" Chris inquired, and sliding along the bed so that he was directly in front of Starbuck and quite capable of stopping any escape attempt. "And I don't want any of the bull crap you're feeding the rest of the family."

Starbuck met Chris's gaze which, obviously, the older teen was not expecting. "I am your younger brother, Anakin, Christopher, but I cannot risk you knowing the truth."

Chris looked at Starbuck and his expressive blue-green eyes flickered as if lit by candlelight. In a beaten voice, Chris pleaded desperately, "Wyatt knows! Why can't I?"

"Like I said," Starbuck started, but was cut off by the sounds of screaming. Starbuck's heart stopped and his breath caught in his throat, but suddenly sounds of laughter and mild curses being thrown about with Henry's name attached to them allowed Starbuck to breathe a sigh of relief. It had probably just been a one of Henry Jr.'s ill-timed pranks. "Wyatt knows because I need his help. It's for the same reason that Mom and Dad know why I came back. You, however, need to not be distracted by my presence."

"Like hell that's ever going to happen," Chris snapped, his eyes flashing for an instant. "And your being evasive is certainly complicating matters."

Starbuck smiled sadly. "And yet, it is a necessary evil." Starbuck's form melted away and the eleven-year-old Anakin sat in his place. "Look Chris, now is not the time for you to find everything out, okay? I promise I'll tell you mostly everything, just not at this point in time."

Chris looked like he was about to argue or explode but a shadow passed over his face and the brown haired teen sighed in defeat. "Fine, but will you answer one question now?"

"Depends on what it is, doesn't it?" Anakin said, cringing as he transformed back into his disguise.

"Prue told me earlier about how you acted around her this morning," Chris started ominously. "Does something happen today?" Chris's worry showed in his eyes even if his voice remained as steady as if he was asking about the weather. "Is there an attack?"

Starbuck gave Chris one short reluctant nod. "But Wyatt and I have got our bases covered. Do not go playing the hero, Chris. It may be their time, but it certainly isn't yours!" The blond teen grabbed Chris's shoulder as the teen started to rise from the bed. "I mean it, Chris: don't do anything stupid."

"I'm not going to cower in the corner if a demon attacks _my _family." Chris hissed, prying Starbuck's fingers off his shoulder. "And I'm certainly not going to sit back and allow Wyatt and you to go running headfirst into danger without backup."

"Bloody heroism is genetic," Starbuck muttered, glowering for a moment. "Fine! I wasn't expecting you to play dead: just don't go _out of your way_. There are some things that are best left to people with the powers to dispose of them."

Chris's eyes narrowed into slits and his nostrils flared. "Are you calling me weak?"

Starbuck inwardly cried out at the stupidity of the argument. "Chris, you're not weak by any stretch of my or any other sane person's imagination. But you do lack certain powers that put you at a dangerous disadvantage against particular enemies."

"I've got every last power you or Wyatt possesses aside from that ridiculous shield." Chris argued, now towering over the still seated Starbuck.

Starbuck shook his head. "You don't have the power to transmute an enemy's attack." Chris glared at Starbuck, about ready to punch the kid. "I'm sorry, but you pressed the issue. You are not the Twice-Blessed, Chris: so stop trying to be."

That got Chris's blood boiling and suddenly Starbuck found himself hanging upside down, completely at Chris's mercy. "And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?" Chris seethed in low, deadly whisper.

"Simply that," Starbuck stated, not one to back down from an argument either. "You try so hard to be Wyatt, that you forget your own uniqueness. Stop being so goddamned occupied with the fact that you are, in some aspects, second best to our brother!"

"Screw you!" Chris hissed as he raised a fist.

Starbuck braced himself as best he could, which was not all that much considering he was hanging upside down in midair. Chris's fist hit him squarely in the stomach and knocked the wind out of the helpless preteen. Chris snapped his finger while spinning around for the door. Starbuck collapsed on the floor in tangled heap as Chris slammed the door shut, but not before he gave Starbuck an icy glare and giving him the finger.

Starbuck righted himself and pulled himself onto Wyatt's still unmade bed. It had served him right for being that blunt with Chris, especially on that particular topic. But Anakin could hardly care less about Chris's feelings, not with the battle approaching. He knew that once everything was out in the open that Chris would feel guilty and they'd be friends again in no time. But at this particular moment, the only thing that mattered to the teen, as he gingerly rubbed his stomach, was in a few moments the first of the demons would be arriving. And he would have to test the already strained relationship he had with Wyatt once again.

Amber Jonson was a seventeen-year-old girl hailing from Montana. She had silky auburn hair and fiery amber eyes. She had the body most girls would kill for and all the boys dreamed of. As was expected, she was the most popular girl in school and only dated the most lusted after men. Many were surprised when she started to actually date Wyatt, none more so than Wyatt himself. He was the captain of the football team and was always surrounded by a posse when at school, but even that was not usually enough for Amber. Amber solely dated _men,_ and as much as Wyatt would argue otherwise with his parents, he knew he was not a _man_.

But they had started to date a few weeks into Wyatt's sophomore year and Amber's junior year. Many expected the couple to break up within the week as both had the reputation for not being the serious type. But to everyone's astonishment, they had stuck it out and four months down the road it seemed, at least to Wyatt, to still be going strong.

So when Amber appeared on the footsteps of the Halliwell Manor, it was not a great surprise that it was Wyatt who answered the door.

"Hey, Wyatt!" Amber said sweetly, standing on her toes to kiss Wyatt on the cheek.

Wyatt smiled and returned the kiss, only this time their lips met. "Amber. What are you doing here?"

"Well, seeing as our date was cut short yesterday," Amber started and Wyatt smiled knowingly. "I was wondering if you'd like to join me tonight to go clubbing."

Wyatt looked longingly at Amber but slowly, disappointedly, shook his head. "I wish I could but it's my little sister's birthday and the whole family's over."

Amber nodded, also disappointed. "Oh, well. Next time?"

"It's a date," Wyatt affirmed, bending down to kiss Amber once more.

"Oy!" shouted Prue behind Wyatt. "Get a room! And I'm not a little kid."

Wyatt broke his kiss and, with a glare aimed at Prue, shut the front door in his sister's face. "Sorry about that – where were we?" Wyatt smiled and leaned in for another kiss.

They had been kissing for a good ten minutes on the front porch before the front door opened once again and the younger Anakin stepped through the door. "Wyatt, Mom says you – oh, sorry." Anakin said, abashed. "Didn't realize you're still busy with…_her_" Anakin looked at Amber with absolute disgust. "Anyway, Mom says she needs you to help set up the tables in the back."

Wyatt nodded and ushered Anakin back inside. "Alright, I'll just be a couple more minutes."

Anakin glanced over his shoulder and made to gag as he watched his brother's lips once again meet Amber's. Shaking the disturbing picture from his nine-year-old mind, he walked toward the kitchen and opened the door, immediately spotting his mother. "Mom, he's with his girlfriend. Can I go play with Henry now?"

Piper looked up from the pot she was stirring vigorously. "All right, but make sure you don't get muddy, young man! Dinner's going to be ready in less than an hour."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Anakin muttered cheekily as he ran from kitchen and toward the back door.

Starbuck entered the kitchen at that very instant. "Forgot how much fun I had with Henry," he said reminiscently.

"Well I certainly don't enjoy trying to rid your clothes of grass stains," Piper declared, "but I'll take your happiness over unspoiled clothes any day."

"How sweet," Starbuck playfully mocked his mother. Piper just shot him a look and continued preparing the main course. "So what exactly are you preparing?"

"Nothing special really," Piper answered automatically.

"In other words, a five-star meal that we'll never be able to taste," Starbuck said the last part in a barely audible whisper. "Whatever it is, it looks delicious."

"Thanks, Anakin." Piper said.

Starbuck was about to argue but realized he already had too many members of his family vying against him. Closing his mouth he simply smiled and opened the oven door for Piper. "Where's Wyatt?"

"He's supposed to be setting up the tables in the back," Piper stated. "But it's more likely he's still got his tongue halfway down his girlfriend's throat. Go remind him that he needs to breathe, please."

Starbuck stifled a groan and walked out the kitchen in the direction of the front door. He passed a few of his cousins and inwardly chuckled at the looks they gave him. If they only knew the truth, they'd be beet red. The cheerful image of Pyrrha and Paisley's face burning red disappeared the moment he opened the front door.

"Wyatt!" Starbuck yelled in shock.

Wyatt Halliwell was convulsing on the floor with pale green foam bubbling out of his mouth. Intermixed in the sickly green foam were streaks of red. Starbuck looked up from his seizing brother to see Amber Jonson standing over Wyatt watching the scene with mild amusement. Anger boiled up inside of Starbuck and he struck out with two massive purple-white lighting bolts. Amber Jonson disappeared in a swirl of black orbs the split second before Starbuck's attacks reached her.

Not caring for his own safety and ignoring the stabbing pain crawling up his arm, Starbuck ran forward and fell to his knees in front of Wyatt. Grabbing Wyatt's hand, the sobbing teen closed his blue eyes and began to try and heal the Twice-Blessed One. But a minute passed and Wyatt had not stopped convulsing and his eyes had now rolled back in their sockets.

"DAD! MOM!" Starbuck yelled, still vainly trying to heal Wyatt. "SOMEONE!"

Pyrrha, the red-haired twin of Paige, and Penelope, the older twin, were the first to arrive at the front door. Both girls screamed at the sight and stood frozen in the doorway. Starbuck was oblivious to the arrival of his cousins as he was putting all his energy into trying to heal Wyatt. The girls' screams however were heard by the rest of the family, who all came running. Paige was the first adult on the scene and she pushed her way to Wyatt.

"What happened?" Paige inquired while laying her hands over Wyatt's chest in an attempt to heal him.

Starbuck, barely registering that Paige was next to him, slammed his fist into the ground causing the entire house to shudder. "Damn it!" He cursed, jumping to his feet.

"Starbuck," Phoebe jumped in, just arriving on the scene. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" Starbuck hissed, looking around wildly. "Calm down! Are you freaking kidding me, Aunt Phoebe?"

That revelation garnered a few gasps, none of which deterred Starbuck from continuing with his rant.

"I came back here to save everyone and instead I get to lose my brother three years earlier!" Starbuck snapped, gesturing madly, causing less than solid items to shatter.

"Wyatt!" Piper exclaimed, finally having been able to get into the pressing circle of freaked out cousins and worried aunts and uncles. "What's wrong with him?" Piper questioned, trying desperately to stop Wyatt's seizures that died down slightly, which Starbuck did not take as a good sign. "Why haven't you healed him yet?"

"I'm trying!" breathed Paige, still holding her hands over Wyatt, "it's not working. Something blocking my powers."

"Anakin?" Piper inquired, automatically to which the younger Anakin gave her a fearful and bewildered look. "Not you, sweetie," Piper said quickly and turned to face Starbuck while still holding Wyatt as still as possible.

"Amber did this," Starbuck whispered, "but I don't know what. This didn't happen like this! I'm not supposed to lose him yet."

"Amber?" Prue questioned, still shaken at seeing her brother dying. "But she's a good witch!"

"She killed you!" Starbuck snapped, not worrying about anyone's emotions. "A fireball straight in the chest!"

"But…" spluttered Prue in shock.

"She's an assassin demon," Starbuck mechanically answered, "able to steal the powers or lives of any of her victims. And well knowledgeable in the most potent poisons known to magic and science, to boot."

By this stage, Leo had joined Paige in trying to heal Wyatt who had stopped shaking, but the foam was still flowing out of his mouth and his breathing was getting shallower. Starbuck looked around at the shocked and scared faces of his family. His blue eyes settled on Chris's green eyes and suddenly Chris was shooting back inside. Starbuck bent down and tried to add his hands into the cluster already glowing over Wyatt's prostrate body but he found he could no longer open up his hand.

"Shit!" the blond muttered.

His worries and curses were overlooked as Wyatt coughed, spraying Piper and the others kneeing over him with the bloodied green foam, Christmas would never be the same.

"We've got to get him to the hospital," Paige insisted. "He's going to choke on that foam even if we find an antidote for him."

"No!" Starbuck exclaimed. "We can't split up!"

"But—" Paige started to argue but Starbuck yelled over her.

"We barely held our own with everyone together! Three people died today in my time: THREE! And that was with everyone there to help fight off the freaking demons! We can't split up." Starbuck looked down at Wyatt helplessly. "We're just going to have to improvise."

"He needs medical attention!" Paige snapped.

"Dad used to be a medic," Starbuck claimed, trying to keep his voice strong and steady. "And we've got enough magic here to conjure up any equipment he needs."

"Anakin," Leo started, "it's been—"

"Well here's a chance to brush up on your skills," Starbuck barked angrily. "Because I'm not losing him or anyone else today! Now help me get him inside before the neighbors start asking questions."

Starbuck's outburst seemed to have rendered all of the Halliwells motionless.

Looking around helplessly, he motioned with his balled up hands. "Wyatt's bedroom!"

Wyatt's body, along with Piper and Leo, both of whom had been touching Wyatt, turned into blue orbs that raced up and through the Manor's outer wall. Starbuck grinded his teeth together as another wave of intense pain swept over his body. Starbuck groped around himself to find a hand and without even looking at the person pulled himself up.

"Anakin?" Phoebe asked, having been the one to pull Starbuck to his feet.

"Not the time," Starbuck muttered, stumbling through the front doors.

The blond teen was sweaty and breathing hard by the time he fell through Wyatt's bedroom doors. He crawled over to Wyatt's bed and pulled himself up, a difficult feat as the paralyzing effects had now spread to his elbows. Through gritted teeth he asked, "What do you need?"

Leo looked fearful but his voice betrayed nothing. "A suction unit and gauze for his tongue."

"Okay." Starbuck's image dropped away and the eleven-year-old Anakin returned. _"Let what is required now reveal, Please help me save my bro's ideal."_

Not the most well thought out incantation in the world, but the required equipment appeared in the room before Anakin screamed out and his fingers turned black. He shook his head hard and forced himself to continue forward. The dull mechanical hum joined the sounds of Piper's soft sobs and Wyatt's ragged, spluttering breathing.

"I need you to keep his airway clear, Anakin." Leo said with deep concern.

Anakin struggled for a second before getting the suction tube maneuvered into his paralyzed fist. Anakin moved closer, careful not to disturb Piper who had taken to brushing Wyatt's golden hair off his sweat-covered brow. The machine's dull hum became a high-pitched squeak as Anakin dipped the tubing into the thick foam. Anakin's breath caught in his throat as the machine clucked and sputtered. The high-pitched squeak dropped a couple of octaves and the foam slowly started to travel up the tube.

Once Wyatt's tongue was visible Leo stepped forward and working as quickly as possible, did his best to wrap up the severely bitten organ. Father and son worked in silent unison to keep Wyatt as alive as long they possibly could, but Anakin knew that they were only prolonging the inevitable. Chris had to concoct the antidote to this unknown poison before Wyatt's heart gave out or he finally drowned in the foam he was still breathing in, despite Anakin's best efforts.

Thirty minutes passed before Leo could no longer stand the silence. "What's happening to you, Anakin?"

Anakin, not looking up from Wyatt's face, muttered, "Magic."

"But…" Leo's already pale face became ashen. "But—"

"I've not taken a pill in two weeks," Anakin said in a monotonous, distant voice. "And magic is finally taking its toll on my body."

Leo carefully took the suction instrument from Anakin for his round of foam sucking as it developed from every crevice in Wyatt's mouth. "We've got medicine, you could have—"

"Wasn't time," Anakin stated, effectively cutting Leo off. "I had to concentrate on keeping history from repeating itself."

"Two minutes!" Leo exclaimed. "You couldn't have spared two minutes!"

"Spare me the lecture, okay?" Anakin snarled, handing a zombie-like Piper a fresh wet cloth. Wyatt had started to run a fever. "I made a dumb decision, alright? But we've got to get Wyatt better before we can worry about my magic eating me from the inside out."

"We're doing everything…" Leo started but couldn't bring himself to finish the thought. "What else can be done?"

"Not arguing." Anakin stated in a snappish tone. "And the machine needs to be emptied."

"Why don't you go get Prue," Leo said, clearly accepting the truce. "You're in no state to be orbing anything anywhere."

"No need to get me, Dad," Prue called, walking into the room. "Most of the family's outside. What do you need?" Prue clearly was avoiding looking at Wyatt, who aside from the fat droplets of sweat and the inconsistent rise and fall of his chest, appeared to be a corpse.

"The machine needs to be emptied," Anakin said in a take-charge manner. "The collecting chamber is right here." He pointed to a part of sole frosted plastic part of the machine. Despite the frosting obscuring the contents it was evident that Wyatt was loosing a lot of blood.

"Where should I orb the stuff?" Prue asked, trying to keep her voice as calm and collected as possible.

"The ocean, the dump, anywhere," Anakin said a little annoyed. "It doesn't really matter."

Prue nodded and said in a soft broken voice, "Just thought the stuff could still be deadly."

"Oh," Anakin paused, his mind spinning. "Perhaps the bathtub, then. If we find a cure, we can neutralize the stuff before disposing it."

"What makes you think it's dangerous, pumpkin?" Leo asked. Any conversation to keep his mind off everything was welcomed at this point.

"Just something I read in one of my alchemy textbooks," Prue said as she telekinetically siphoned the foam through the wall and into the bathtub. "Everyone is looking for some idea of what this is."

"Anyone scrying for the bitch?" Anakin inquired.

Prue hiccupped, "Aunt Paige is in the attic along with Uncle Coop."

Anakin glanced over at Wyatt. "Have crystals been set out?"

Prue nodded, dropping her hand to her side. "Aunt Phoebe set them up ages ago. Everyone is scared out of their minds that another attack is about to happen."

"Good," Anakin grimly muttered. "And Chris?"

"He's muttering to himself over a boiling pot of some foul-smelling concoction in the kitchen." Prue answered, finally looking up at Wyatt. She started to cry and fell against Anakin's shoulder, who awkwardly tried to pat her on the back.

"Some birthday, hey sis?" Anakin said, trying to cheer her up.

Prue did not say anything; she just clung tighter to Anakin.

"What about _Bungarus magikitis_ venom?" Pyrrha questioned as she walked into the room. She was the reader of the family and the one Anakin was counting on aside from Chris to figure out a way to save Wyatt. "I mean, it's not unheard of for warlocks to use the pure venom on their athames to paralyze their victims, but there was this record back from Ancient Egypt were this sorceress boiled the venom with some wood nymph heart and it produced a similar effect on her victims. But still, it's only in one book and it still doesn't explain your inability to just heal Wyatt…" She continued to ramble, but Anakin had tuned her out.

Finally, he interrupted her tangent on the importance of proper sources. "Pyrrha, this snake venom: is there a known antidote," he stumbled over his words, "an – an antivenin?"

Pyrrha looked at Anakin as if debating whether she should tell him the truth or not. "Not that I've come across but," she continued in a reassuring voice, "I'm sure we'll find something."

"Dad?" Anakin turned to face Leo, "What substances do you know that can block whitelighter powers?"

Leo gave a noncommittal shrug, "None as far as I know. Only powerful magic can stop our healing ability. She could have cursed it or cursed Wyatt."

"So it'll make no difference to Chris's potion then," Anakin concluded. "Pyrrha, go tell Chris what you know: it might help him with the antidote." He turned to Prue, "Gather anyone that isn't doing something majorly productive and get to work on breaking the curse."

"But—" Leo started.

"No Dad," Anakin cut him off. "I know how curses work and I don't need to be reminded it's a long shot that we break it without _her,_ but it's our only option."

"What are you going to do?" Prue inquired timidly.

"I'm going to find the demon that did this to Wyatt and bring her ass back up here to fix him." Anakin whispered, daring anyone to challenge his decision.

"But you can't orb or use any of your other powers." Leo took the bait.

"So freaking what!" Anakin snapped. "If Wyatt dies, then I've got nothing left to live for, do I? The future is going to be just the freaking same. I'm going, Dad."

"Then you'll be catching a ride with me." Prue put her foot down. "I'm crap at writing spells…"

"And you've got no effective active powers," Anakin argued. "No, _you_ will be staying right here."

"I'm your older sister Anakin," Prue retorted, getting in Anakin's face, "you're not the boss of me."

"Dad!" Anakin immediately shouted, "Tell her she's not coming with!"

"Prue…" Leo started.

"I'm just as old as Anakin, if he can go, then so can I." Prue snapped at Leo before he even finished his sentence.

"No," Piper muttered. She slowly came out of the hole she was hiding in. "NO!"

"Mom?" Prue asked softly.

"NO!" Piper yelled and the windows shattered and Wyatt's wardrobe instantly turned into sawdust.

"Mom!" Anakin jumped in, placing his hand on both of Piper's. "Listen, I've got to do this. I can't lose him again … not now – not so soon."

Piper looked at Anakin with puffy red eyes. "This is my fight, Anakin. You are all still too young to be doing this crap. If magic wants us back in action fine, but it better leave my children, nieces, and nephews the hell out of the fight!" She screamed at the ceiling.

"Piper." Leo whispered in a calming voice.

"No, Leo!" Piper snapped, climbing off the bed, careful to not disturb Wyatt's head. "Don't you dare defend their sorry asses. They took you away from me for a year! They promised that it was over! And now they're throwing our kids into the fight!"

"Mom," Anakin jumped in, "You knew that we'd be following…"

Piper glared at him and he shut his mouth. "Yes, I knew! I knew that Wyatt would be the Twice-Blessed. That there'd be another set of Charmed Ones. That Excalibur would come out of the effing stone. But I refuse to allow _them_ to steal your childhoods away. You're only eleven, for God's sake, Anakin. You should be worrying about your popularity at school and passing a math test, not saving the world!"

"I know it's not fair, Mom." Anakin tried to reason. "But I've accepted it and now I've got to fix my mistake."

"NO!" Piper slammed her hand down on the computer desk, making everyone in the room jump. "Wyatt is _my_ son. I'm going after that bitch and then I'm going to make the Underworld regret the day that they provoked the Charmed Ones back into action."

"I found her!" Phoebe exclaimed, running in to the room. She paused and looked around the room. "Alright, what's going on?" She looked at Wyatt and paled. "He's not…?"

"No," Leo whispered returning to sucking out the foamy buildup. "Not yet."

"So what, then?" Phoebe questioned, looking at Anakin and Prue for answers. Both teens were quick to look away when she met their eyes. "Piper?"

"Where is she?" Piper questioned in a no-nonsense tone.

"The park," Phoebe stated. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Piper asked laughing. "Are you kidding me, Phoebs?"

Phoebe blushed slightly. "You know what I mean."

"Magic wants a fight?" Piper inquired glancing at the ceiling. "Then it's going to get one."

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Oh – well, then I'll just go get Paige, then."

"No!" Anakin jumped in. He turned to face Piper. "Look, I'm expendable, okay? You're not. Let me do this, please."

Piper looked into Anakin's eyes. "And what kind of mother would ever do that?"

"The kind that realizes she's got four kids that need her," Anakin argued. "The kind that doesn't allow her emotions and hatred to cloud her judgment." Anakin took his mother's face in his hand. "The universe has never been kind to this family. But you've always been a source of strength and a steady foundation for this family. If you die today – this family won't survive tomorrow."

"But you're just a kid," Piper muttered, her voice breaking. "You're just my little baby." Her eyes got teary again.

"And I've also witnessed the death of almost each and every one of my family," Anakin replied, also getting emotional. "I don't want that to be my future and I'm the only one who can make sure it doesn't happen."

"But you've got no powers." Prue argued.

"I've got enough," Anakin answered, stepping away from Piper.

"It'll kill you if you even orb." Leo stated.

"Then I'll walk," Anakin said. "She's not going anywhere. She knows that at least one of us will come after her. She wants another victim, not to run and hide."

"Paige could orb you," Phoebe suggested.

Anakin actually chuckled at the suggestion. "And then she wouldn't leave. I'm sorry, but I go after her alone."

"Like hell you will," Chris stated, barging through the door looking thoroughly pleased with himself. He held up a tiny vial of steaming red liquid. "This should counteract the venom if we guessed right."

"And then what?" Phoebe asked. "You can just heal him then, right?"

"It's not the venom that's stopping us from healing him, Phoebe." Leo muttered. "It's a curse. We still need Amber."

"Will the potion work now?" Prue asked, risking a smile small of hope.

"We can't waste this," Chris said glumly. "We don't have any more of some of the ingredients and they're not ones we can just conjure up either."

"Dad?" Prue inquired. Everyone turned to the ex-Elder.

Leo gulped. "Curses have to be specific and intentional in their design. I think when Amber placed the curse on Wyatt she could not have possibly known we'd be able to brew an antidote in time to save Wyatt."

"Then we give it to him," Piper firmly said. "At least if it works it'll stop him from getting any worse, right? And if it doesn't work, we'll break the curse and you'll be able to just heal him."

"Are you sure Mom?" Chris asked as he handed Anakin the vial.

"Yes." Piper said through a rattling breath.

The room was thick with anticipation as Anakin walked over to Wyatt's bed. Anakin shakily placed the top of the vial onto Wyatt's parched and blue lips. Leo removed the suction tube and everyone held their breath as Anakin tipped the vial. The steaming red liquids seeped out of the vial drop by drop, landing inside Wyatt's mouth with a sizzling sound. The red smoke was joined by a pale blue vapor that quickly obscured Anakin and Wyatt from everyone's view.

"Anakin?" Piper called out. When there was no answer, Piper's breath quickened. "Anakin!"

The members of the room peered dangerously close to the noxious blue fumes still billowing from where they hoped Anakin and Wyatt were. They sat in utter silence straining to hear anything from inside the cloud.

Suddenly Anakin stepped out of the blue vapors coughing and waving the lingering wafts away from his face. He looked up at everyone and gave them a broad grin, "It worked." There was a collective sigh of relief. "The foam's stopped forming and some of the color's returned back to his cheeks." As he spoke the cloud dissipated and the still unconscious Wyatt came back into view.

"So maybe now we don't need to heal him," Prue said. "We don't need to go rushing after Amber just yet."

"No," Anakin shook his head. "She needs to die, today. And the curse still has to be lifted. There will be more battles to come and Wyatt will be required to participate in those battles."

"Then let's go," Chris stated. "Anakin and I can handle the bi – err – I mean – Amber." He glanced nervously at Piper who could have cared less at the moment if he had finished the word. "Everyone else, work on vanquishing potions or a spell to break the curse."

Anakin walked over to Chris and nodded in agreement. In a low whisper so that only Chris could hear, he said, "Told you: you don't need to be the Twice-Blessed."

Chris grinned and looked at their mother for approval.

"Fine," Piper gravely consented. "But I'm giving you twenty minutes before I come in, guns blazing, and if either of you are hurt…" She trailed off.

"Before we go," Anakin whispered once again, "let's stop by the attic and collect some of the stockpiled potions. I'm not sure I could use my powers even if I wanted to."

Chris nodded and without another word, the two brothers turned into glowing blue lights and disappeared.

They arrived at the park laden with potions ranging from the destructive power of a small bomb to mere stunners. Anakin quickly spotted Amber seated on a bench, hardly caring that a number of mortals were staring at her true appearance. Her true form made Medusa look like a fairy-tale princess. She had a horribly disfigured and blackened face with some of the wounds still oozing out yellow pus. Her remaining eye was snake-like and a burning orange. She had a hunched back and a long reptilian tail that ended in a giant arrowhead that blazed with a dull emerald fire. Her hands were the equivalent of raptor talons that would have made even a harpy shy away.

"Wyatt's dying, and all the family sends to catch me is the pathetic sniveling younger brother and the deformed golden-haired brat." Amber spat, still not rising from her chosen seat. "Although, you're not as young as you should be – ahh, but I forgot – you're from the future. One in which your family isn't doing too hot, I hear."

"How'd you know?" Anakin exclaimed.

"Oh," Amber smiled and both brothers felt queasy. Her teeth were jagged yellow fangs that still had decaying flesh stuck in-between them. "You know. You hear a rumor and then you _hear_ a rumor."

"You've got telepathic powers," Anakin concluded. "Must have been a powerful witch to have broken through my barriers."

Amber sneered. "Don't give yourself too much credit, brat. You're not the fabled hero those greater powers are telling me you are. The Halliwells," She spat the name out like a poison, "are all a bunch of stuck up old pricks that think the universe owes them some debt of gratitude—of peace, because they fight the good fight. Well, guess what?" Amber jumped to her still human feet, "You're all nothing more than a bunch of spineless cowards."

Anakin rolled his eyes. "I've heard the speech before, Amber. Can we skip the part were you tell us your sad sob story about how my mother vanquished your parents? From what I read about your father, he wasn't all that high and mighty, either. Human-like, yes, but crappy, selfish, idiotic psychopaths nonetheless. I don't care." Anakin took a step closer. "You've murdered, plundered, poisoned, and tortured your share of innocents as well. So tell me, _Amber_, how do you fit into your little scenario?"

Amber's eyes glinted and she lunged at Anakin. "You filthy little pest!" she raged.

She caught Anakin by the throat and threw him a couple of feet. Anakin crashed into the grass still with a smirk on his face. "You did better than that last time, Amber," he taunted. "You almost killed me last time. That was, of course, before my brothers murdered you for killing our sister."

Chris watched the events unfold before him in stunned silence. Both Anakin and Amber paid him no heed.

"If she died, she did so for the greater good!" Yelled Amber, charging again.

Anakin threw a purple vial at Amber and she stumbled backwards. "The Greater Good is just a way for self-centered righteous jerks like your parents and yourself to remove the blood of your victims from your hands. The universe doesn't need idiots like you helping it keep the glorious balance." Anakin said the last part with full sarcasm.

Amber charged again, this time in a completely blind rage. Her talons shot out of her fingers, leaving a steam of ruby red blood in their wake. Anakin dodged all but one of the black talons. The one that hit caught him in the shoulder and he collapsed to the ground.

"So, you going to kill me, Amber?" Anakin questioned with a small laugh. "Going to correct the evil done by my father?"

Amber came and leered over Anakin. "I should rip your throat out."

"So go ahead," Anakin pushed, "show the great powers that you're worthy of your father's name."

Amber lifted a claw to do exactly that when suddenly she screamed and burst into flames. Anakin lifted himself off the ground just in time to dodge the energy ball that blasted into the ground were his head had been. He got to his feet and ran toward Chris as fast as he could, but the numbness was slowing him down tremendously. "CHRIS!"

Chris spun around, snapping out of his dream-like state. "Anakin!" He yelled as he orbed out and back in next to Anakin, grabbing his hand before orbing out once again.

"Have you healed him yet?" Anakin asked, collapsing to the floor as soon as he and Chris arrived back in Wyatt's bedroom.

Leo immediately stretched out his hand and his face brightened. Wyatt took mighty gasps of air and sat bolt upright.

"Amber, NO!" He yelled before looking around. "Oh."

Piper ran and wrapped Wyatt in a hug. The others in the room save for Anakin followed suit.

"Great that you're among the living, Wy, but we've got a problem." Anakin hissed, struggling back to his feet. "Four upper demons attacked us in the park. One of them vanquished Amber … but that was before they tried to do me in as well."

"Your arm!" Prue exclaimed. "What happened to your arm?"

Anakin looked down at his arm to see the blackness that had covered his fingers had now spread to just below his elbow. "Guess I used more than I thought I did. But it doesn't matter," Anakin continued, trying to keep the family focused. "We're about to have a repeat minus Amber of what happened in my time. You've got to get ready."

"Guess your plan's no longer on the table then," Wyatt stated, pushing himself up against his headboard.

"I'd say not," Anakin answered, collapsing into Wyatt's computer chair for the umpteenth time that day.

"How come you never—" Wyatt started in a mildly annoyed tone.

"Because," Anakin firmly cut Wyatt's question. "That is the least of your worries at the moment. These demons killed three of you. Why aren't you getting that?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Maybe for the same reason I'm not still furious with you. It hasn't happened yet, Anakin. And this recent incident just proves that you've changed something in the timeline."

"What would you have us do, sweetie?" Piper inquired, stepping into the mounting brotherly argument.

"Start by brewing some stronger vanquishing potions," Anakin stated, telekinetically empting his pockets. "These work just fine against one or two demons but you need firepower to destroy hordes in seconds."

"We've got powers for that," Wyatt disagreed. He had always disliked potions.

"Maybe you do," Anakin stated in a bored tone, "but the only one that comes near to your arsenal is still figuring out how to freeze a fly, never mind a dozen darklighters."

Chris and Prue gave Anakin indignant looks.

"Look Prue, you're more whitelighter than witch," Anakin explained his argument, "And Chris, we've already been through this once. As for any of our cousins, they're either half-cupids, which is worse than being a whitelighter when it comes to these types of situations, or half mortal and quarter whitelighter."

"Point taken," Chris conceded. "But you could find a nicer way of phrasing it."

"Public speaking has never been my forte," Anakin sighed. "If the timeline is not entirely screwed up then you're about to face darklighters, brutes, imps, zombies, and a couple of the demons along the line of Balthazar's breed."

"So just about the greater part of the Underworld's population then," Paige summarized as she joined the growing family meeting.

"Pretty much," Anakin agreed with a grim smile. "Your Balthazar vanquishing potion, Aunt Paige, will be helpful against the upper levels."

"But I'm all out of demon ears." Paige used her sense of humor to lighten up the situation.

"Substitute Charmed blood," Chris said automatically, "that should nullify any protections they have against non-specific potions."

"Only in argument." Pyrrha argued.

"No time," Anakin stopped his red-haired cousin before she could get started. "Chris, Aunt Paige, and Prue can work on that potion. Everyone else, find the several stashes of left behind athames in this house and arm yourselves."

"What about Leo and Henry and Coop?" Phoebe inquired.

"They and I will have to be in the attic." Anakin said begrudgingly. "I can vanquish any demon that fights through the crystals you placed up there, Aunt Phoebe."

"You can barely stand." Piper argued.

"Mom," Anakin raised his voice to quiet any retort. "I'm already removing myself from the middle of the battle. Dad, Uncle Coop and Uncle Henry will be the safest in the attic and so will I. They'll be expecting you to send them away, and anywhere you can think that is safe they know about."

"Magic School!" Piper exclaimed. "Why not Magic School?"

Anakin shook his head. "I'm not leaving this house, Mom!"

Piper tried to come up with an argument but Anakin just adamantly shook his head.

"I did not come back here to be shuffled away into a broom closet!" Anakin finally yelled. "This illness be damned, I'm going to save my family, Mother, whether you like it or not!" That ended the matter.

The Manor became a chaotic speedway as sixteen people rushed around from one end of the house to the other preparing for the battle. By the end of the hour, the Manor looked like a bomb had hit it, and for those who knew where to look, resembled a fortified battleship. The last step the nervous family took was locking the attic door with the four more or less helpless members occupying it.

Anakin, at this phase, was sweating profusely and in an almost unending dull pain that regularly became sharp and unbearable. His arm was completely black, as was the greater part of both his legs. Thankfully, the blackness had yet to encroach on his chest, but something told Anakin his luck was quickly running out. He bore Leo's constant attempts at trying to heal him in silent anticipation. It gave Leo something to do and he was grateful that Leo was trying so hard.

"Why can't–" Leo inquired once again.

"I told you Dad," Anakin hissed through clenched teeth as another wave of the pain blackened his sight. "I can't risk messing with the future in that retrospect. This drug, or whatever it is, is not easy to come by and the Elders have given you their entire stock of it. They can't make any more except at the specific times. And if you run out of the drugs before that deadline, there is nothing they can do."

"So I'm supposed to sit back and watch another son from the future die in my arms?" Leo asked.

"Don't be so negative," Anakin coughed. "Who knows what might happen in the days to come?"

"Anakin, you don't have days," Leo spoke in earnest. "You barely have hours if you don't use another drop of magic."

Coop the Cupid came over and kneeled next to Anakin. "Surely there is some sort of future knowledge you can use to your advantage in this situation?"

Anakin shook his head slowly. "I wish I did, but I don't know what I've changed. I know that we had a near catastrophe the year after … well, the year after Paige died," Henry gave a sort of grimace, "but that might have changed. Now, it could be this year's supply that gets flushed away by a leak in the basement, or a demon could come in and destroy the tablets. It's too risky for me to take from Anakin's stash. I need my own."

"But the Elders don't have any more, at least not for another nine months," Leo said helplessly.

"Then we pray for a miracle." Anakin said, closing his eyes. "It's begun."

And it was true, for seconds later the sounds of crashing and roars of anger reached the four men's ears. Coop and Leo, who both were magical, took the waiting much worse than Henry, who had been subjected to this sort of treatment before by Paige. Leo gently rubbed Anakin's head as they listened to muffled shouts and more screams of pain.

"Hope that bastard, Harris, was dumb enough to antagonize Wyatt today." Anakin muttered.

"Language." Leo reprimanded automatically.

"Sorry," Anakin took in a deep breath. "But the – eh – _guy_ deserves it, for what he put Mom through."

"Do we want to know?" Henry inquired, rising from his chair in the corner, separate from the group in the center of the room.

"Nothing like that, Uncle Henry," Anakin wheezed. "He just has the power to make people see things – mess with their minds. Made her think we'd all died. Took her a week to recover enough to allow us out of her sight."

Leo broke up the conversation. "Praying's not good enough, Anakin."

"Now's not the time, Dad." Anakin tried to retort, but it came out as a hoarse whisper. "The battle is our concern."

"I'm not losing you," Leo argued stubbornly. "You didn't come back here to die."

"I'm not," Anakin stopped and glanced at the attic door. "Brace yourselves."

The attic door flew off its hinges, nearly missing Henry's head. All three adults were on their feet in seconds, searching for any objects that could be used as a weapon. But their pursuits were of little use, for as the demon stepped into the room, Wyatt appeared in front of it. The hideously deformed black-haired warlock glared at Wyatt as he swung Excalibur cleanly through its neck. The warlock's decapitated body turned to a pile of ash as Wyatt slumped against the wrecked doorframe.

"There's so many of them," he wheezed, still catching his breath. "But those potions finished off the big ones…now, it's just minions."

"Anyone hurt?" Coop asked fearfully.

"Cuts and bruises," Wyatt said, conjuring a water glass and splashing the contents onto his face. "I think Chris has a nasty cut on the forehead, but nothing serious." Wyatt stood up and took a deep breath. "How's Anakin?"

"Fine, thank you," Anakin scowled, resentful. "I'm being killed, but I'm not dead yet, Wyatt."

"He always was short-tempered during his episodes," Henry muttered.

"Thanks for the insight, Uncle Henry," Anakin glared at his uncle. "If it's just a mop-up job, then who was that?"

"Harris," Wyatt hissed. "Stupid idiotic warlock." Then the blond glared at his father. "You need to stop being so goddamned trusting with who you allow into Magic School."

Leo raised his eyebrows. "Harris is a student?"

"God!" Wyatt raised his hand up in defeat. "You become a mortal in almost the entire sense of the word and you become oblivious to everything around you."

"Wy," Anakin coughed, "I think you'd be better off releasing your frustrations on the demons downstairs."

Wyatt nodded slowly. "You don't look good, Anakin."

The eldest Charmed descendant was right. In the few minutes since Wyatt had walked into the attic, Anakin had become deathly pale except for the horrible black bruise spreading up his arms and legs. His usually blond perfect hair was a soggy mess from his sweat.

Anakin clenched his jaws. "I know, but one issue at a time."

"Just don't die on me," Wyatt stated walking over to the prone teen. "Okay?"

Anakin smiled weakly. "I'll do my best, Wy."

"Good," Wyatt stood up and cracked his neck. "Now, to make the Underworld hurt." He orbed out.

"Dad," Anakin croaked once Wyatt was gone, "I'm thirsty."

"Coop?" Leo questioned, looking up at the Cupid.

Coop nodded in understandment. "I'll just be a sec." His eyes filled with compassion and his disappeared in a red-pink flash that emanated from his heart.

"Henry," Leo spoke up, not taking his eyes off Anakin who had closed his eyes. "Can you go fetch the bowl of ice and wet clothes from Wyatt's room?"

Henry nodded, taking out his gun. "Is there anything else we can do, Leo?"

Leo shook his head. "There's nothing we can do for him – I don't think even the pills could stop the disease now." Leo swallowed a lump in his throat. "We can only keep him as comfortable and relaxed as possible."

"Alright." Henry gave Leo a pat on the back as he walked out of the attic.

Once Leo was sure that Henry was down the stairs Leo placed both of his hands on Anakin's chest and started to try and heal his helpless son. His palms glowed the bright golden that normally accompanied the power, but Anakin's condition did not change in the least. Leo shook his head and tried again, putting everything he had into the power. Suddenly, Anakin's black glowed a funny dark purple color and Leo was thrown back a few feet, barely missing the coffee table. Anakin gasped and shuddered and Leo clambered to his feet.

"No, Annie!" the distraught father cried. "Please – no!"

Anakin's body gave another shudder and his back arched and the teen gave a horrible scream.

"_One to be forever glorified … one to be forever punished … one to be forever overshadowed … and one to never truly fit in. Only through this can the punished be saved … only then can the great evil be stopped. Four together … stronger than any … four united … Who'd dare stand in their way."_ Anakin's voice died out and his eyes rolled back into his head. He collapsed back onto the floor in a crumpled heap, no longer breathing.


	8. One Fight Down

One Fight Down

Anakin found the perfect hiding place in the vast cave network. It would be a while before the thing following him would find him in here, but he did not have a while. He looked down at his arms and saw the darkness encompassing his fingers. He did not even have thirty minutes and even less if he had to fight that beast again.

Anakin closed his eyes and took deep, calming breaths; he had been in tough situations before. He had survived those and he _would_ survive this one. Then, his worst fears were realized, or at least heard in the form of the quiet 'clack' of boots on the moist cave floor. Anakin gulped, sinking back deeper into the shadows, shaking with suppressed terror.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," taunted the distant creature.

Anakin's breath automatically caught in his throat. He looked around at his hiding spot. The ceiling was low here and the walls were barely four feet apart. Cramped, small, claustrophobic; those were the adjectives that sprang to Anakin's mind. With any other demon, warlock, or the evil-of-the-week, these conditions would have given Anakin a fighting chance, even in his weakened state. But this creature would not be hindered by space. It could kill him no matter how hampering the environment.

"Come on, Anakin; I just want to talk." The creature called out, now much closer.

Anakin stared out into the blackness trying to spot the creature, trying to gain any advantage he could. Suddenly the creature came around the bend, but it was not what he was expecting. He had only seen the creature in vague glimpses over his shoulder. In his mind, he had formed the picture of a demon with glowing red eyes and a spiked tail, the epitome of a devilish creature. But this…well, _this_ was far worse.

"You were never good at hide-and-go-seek, Anakin," sneered Lucien. It was Lucien, but he was much more insidious. His body was covered in a blue grey armor. The armor glistened in the pale light that found its way into the depths of the cavern. Lucien's curly brown hair was covered by a helmet made out of the same material as the armor, but the helmet had a crown of silver spikes growing out of it. The tips of the crown had small blue-green sparks jumping between the miniature lightning rods.

Lucien stepped directly into the stone chamber where Anakin's hideout was located. He stopped in the center and looked directly at Anakin, who recoiled in fear. "Now stop being rude and come out of the shadows."

Anakin started to breathe again, softly and slowly, once Lucien's eyes began to search different shadows. The blond witch shook his head, trying to shake the fear that threatened to paralyze him and slunk back further into shadow. He only stopped creeping once cold sharp edges of wall pressed painfully into his back and palms. Anakin grimaced; one of the edges cut into his palm. Anakin tried and failed to muffle the sudden gasp. Lucien's eyes immediately refocused on the small alcove in which Anakin was crouching.

Lucien increased the size of the fireball floating inches from his chest with a flicker of light in his eyes. The brown-haired teen raised a single hand above his crowned head and a massive explosion of emerald green light lit up the entire cave. The oppressive shadows that Anakin had been hiding in were gone. Lucien spotted Anakin and a feral grin stretched across his face. The green light diminished and the cave became lit by the unearthly glow of the massive molten red fireball. Lucien's leer grew when his brown eyes fell on the cowering Anakin.

"Like I said," Lucien whispered, walking closer to Anakin, "you could never hide from me."

Anakin looked up at Lucien. "It can't be…no – this is—"

"Is what?" Lucien sneered. As he did, the fireball fluctuated to imitate the demon's anger. "I'm here to finish what I started – killing off the Halliwells."

"No!" Anakin yelled, blocking his ears, "that was a lie!"

"I must say," Lucien drawled, "I really was not expecting you to take my side against both Wyatt and Chris. It was almost," Lucien paused and touched his chest with his hand and gave Anakin a fake expression of gratitude, "touching."

Anakin broke eye contact with Lucien. "No," he shook his head.

"What?" Lucien sneered at Anakin, bending down so that he was face to face with the crying teen. "Can't believe that the perfect Anakin could be fooled?"

"I felt you die!" Anakin screamed.

Lucien chuckled. "I wiped out the strongest magical family in the history of the universe, and you're caught up on the fact that you think you felt me die." Lucien shook his head, saddened. "I was hoping this would be more – invigorating." Lucien stood up and raised his hand. "Well, Anakin, this is where we say our goodbyes."

Another smaller fireball exploded to life in Lucien's palm, where he lifted the hand above his head and threw it. The fireball reached Anakin's chest before ricocheting off to the side. Anakin's eyes flashed in anger, his face morphing into a determined look. He maniacally threw his arm out in a sweeping motion. Lucien went flying across the room, his face betraying his surprise. But despite the unexpectedness of the attack, the teen managed to right himself and landed gracefully. Anakin screamed as the icy blackness began to spread up his arm.

"Not bad," Lucien congratulated the writhing blond-haired teen. "I knew there was a reason I was attracted to you."

Anakin glared at Lucien, finally regaining his sense of sight. "I killed them!" His anger caused him to splutter.

"Yes," Lucien nodded, his eyes glinting in mild amusement at the anguish he was causing. "You did."

"And they were right," Anakin could barely speak he was so infuriated.

Lucien once again gave Anakin a short, curt nod. "And again, all I have to say is _yes_." He hissed the last part out with laughing vengeance.

Anakin raised his hand out in front of his chest. Electricity crackled in between his blackened fingers. The blue-white bolts of energy spattered and small bolts crashed into the ground, leaving minor craters in the solid rock floor and filling the air with the smell of ozone and smoke. Anakin looked Lucien directly in the eyes and the bolt of energy jumped out of his palm, charging at Lucien.

Lucien raised his own hand and a shield of ice formed in front of his body. The electricity shattered the ice shield and tossed Lucien a few feet in the air. After the wind was briefly knocked out of him, Lucien got to his feet calmly and snapped his wrist in a low-handed throw. Anakin, distracted by the pain of the blackness crawling up and onto his chest, got hit by the bolt of blue-green electricity. He stumbled backwards; where the bolt had hit was now a bleeding, smoking wound the size of a golf ball.

"You are good, I'll give you that." Lucien said with a sharp exhaling breath. He straightened up, brushing himself off. With a confident smile he continued, "But without your brothers, you are no match for me."

"Shut up and fight." Anakin snapped, throwing an energy ball at Lucien, who batted the attack away like a harmless fly.

Lucien snapped his fingers and dark green vines sprang out of the solid rock and entangled themselves around Anakin's legs, stopping just below his knees. The vines wrapped around tightly, rooting the fighting teen to the spot. With another casual wave of his hand, lighter green vines sprang out of the ground in front of him. They wrapped around each other like writhing emerald snakes. Slowly they fashioned themselves into the shape of a massive throne. Lucien took a seat and the vines twisted and slithered to support his weight. The tanned-skinned demon was simply showing off, angering his prey even further.

"You see, Anakin," Lucien began with a small chuckle, "I have to admit that I did, at one point in time, lust after you. You were never one to be pushed around – you were never weak. It was intoxicating to just be near someone who was so determined – so sure of himself. You had no weakness: you were my perfect mate. Well, at least that is what I thought for a time." Lucien shook his head, disappointed, causing his massive helmet to sway dangerously on his head. "But then you had to go running after some scrap of hope in saving your family."

Lucien raised his hand and the rocks surrounding his makeshift throne snapped and creaked as if something was trying to break free from under them. The cracks in the stone grew into large conical boulders, quickly forming stalagmites and started to protrude out of the massive holes in the rugged, shaking ground. The stalagmites continued to grow, thinning out as they grew larger, sharpening to a dangerous point. Lucien lowered his hand and rotated his wrist sharply. The peaks of the boulders snapped off and floated about an inch above the ground where they hovered. The remainder of the boulders shattered into fine dust.

"I always wanted to spare you," Lucien stated, not looking at Anakin as he twiddled his thumbs. The throne he was sitting on flickered like an old television. He continued to mutter to himself, seeming not to notice the demon. "My brother always had a soft spot for you."

"But you hated your brother!" Anakin yelled.

Lucien sat back in his chair and stared at Anakin for a second, as if not recognizing him. Finally, "Not the idiotic mortal I had to put up with," Lucien jeered. "No, my true brother, but it is his loss. You see, I cannot allow you to live now that you have found what you deem to be your salvation. Let the masses have hope, and they become your worst enemy." Lucien cracked his neck and as he did so, the floating conical rocks quivered. "I'm sorry Anakin, but you give me no other choice."

More than twenty cones shot off at lightning speed toward the trapped Anakin.

"NO!" He yelled, and a burst of energy destroyed the grey stone spear tips.

Lucien's face contorted with rage and he shot another electric bolt at Anakin, which veered off to the side. Anakin glanced down at the vine holding him captive and they shriveled up as if in a heat wave. The blond sprang out of the way of another of Lucien's electric bolts but crashed to the ground on his already injured arm. Lucien took the opportunity to conjure up a fireball and tossed it at the prostrate teen.

Anakin rolled over in time to catch the fireball in his hands. He then threw the attack back at its conjurer, who swept it aside. The blackness had now grown to cover the greater part of Anakin's midsection causing Anakin's breathing to become more ragged and labored. But he had adrenaline pumping through his veins and he charged at Lucien like a wild animal.

His shoulders collided into the other teen's knees, pulling both of them onto the ground. Anakin whipped around and scrambled to his feet, dodging Lucien's half-hearted attempt at a kick. Anakin circled Lucien, remaining carefully out of arm's length. Lucien was breathing and sweating heavily, his eyes following the prowling Anakin warily.

"You killed my entire family!" Anakin screamed, no longer holding back. The cloud carried on to inch further up Anakin's body.

Lucien did not answer Anakin's desperate attempt at to rectify the situation.

"Wyatt and Chris," Anakin blinked away the tears. "They died because I protected _you_ from them."

Lucien simply stared at Anakin.

Anakin stopped circling him like prey. He brought both of his hands in front of his body and in a precise tried-and-true motion, released a blast of energy. Lucien tried to get out of the way, but the energy hit him and his arm burst into thousands of bloody pieces. Anakin tried again, but this time Lucien was ready, and threw a fireball which took the brunt of the attack. Anakin prepared for a third strike when the icy blackness moved up his neck and he screamed.

Lucien, nursing a bloody stump barely connected to his shoulder crawled back to his feet. "You can't win, Anakin," he laughed, but it lacked the fervor he originally had. "You simply don't have the time."

"I'm…" Struggled Anakin, the blackness was fast approaching his jaw line, "…going…to…" he fought to get enough air.

"So long." Lucien turned his back on Anakin.

"ANAKIN!" echoed a powerful voice. "DON'T GIVE UP!"

Lucien laughed. "You're too late – he's lost."

"ANAKIN!" the voice reverberated through the stone cave.

Anakin twisted, trying to get his mouth out of the black cloud. His movements became more desperate. He reached up with his already thoroughly covered hands and tried to pull the cloud down. His eyes widened and he frantically searched for an answer.

"FIGHT IT!" the voice said, this time with compassion.

Anakin twisted and turned, but the cloud continued its slow and steady ascent.

Lucien, gaining back some of his old confidence, laughed out loud. "You're wasting your time!"

"FIGHT, ANAKIN!" the voice shouted, drowning out Lucien's laughter. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!"

The blackness around Anakin's mouth bulged and Lucien gulped. The bulge grew and exploded, leaving a massive crevice all long the walls at Anakin's height. The cloud tried to fill the void, but a golden glow shone through, burning away any darkness that swept over Anakin's face.

"Lucien?" Anakin called out.

Lucien glared at Anakin and conjured a fireball. "Screw you!" He threw the fireball but it melted away in the air.

"Lucien?" Anakin questioned again, not paying the demon any mind.

"YES!" the disembodied voice, evident with relief.

"But…" Anakin paused, glancing at the Lucien in front of him, "…how?"

Everything was silent except for the sounds of water dripping into a small puddle in the distance. "NOW ISN'T THE TIME." The voice whispered. "YOU NEED TO FIGHT THIS."

"How?" Anakin asked, a small whine tainting his tone.

"EXACTLY HOW YOU FOUGHT IT A MOMENT AGO." Lucien instructed.

"No!" yelled the visible Lucien. "I'm finishing this!"

Anakin looked at him, whispering, "No, you're not." He gulped. "Because you're not real."

Lucien charged forward and Anakin breathed a bit faster, but did nothing else. Lucien suddenly ran straight through him and melted away like a wisp of smoke. Anakin let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay," he whispered. "I can do this."

Anakin squeezed his eyes shut. The ground beneath him shuddered, and the rocks shattered, and the roof started to fall. As the giant blocks of solid stone fell though the air, they split in the breeze and disappeared just like Lucien. The tremor grew in magnitude as the walls started to crash down, but like everything else, it disappeared before actually hitting the ground. Then the floor started to fade away, evaporating all around Anakin until he was surrounded by a faint glowing white.

Anakin opened his eyes and his breath quickened: he was now falling. "Alright, not much of an improvement here!"

"YOU'RE NOT DONE," the echoing voice of Lucien said. "YOUR ANGER: YOU NEED TO GET RID OF IT. IT'S WHAT HAS BEEN KILLING YOU."

"No," Anakin shook his head negatively, "my magic is killing me, just like it killed the rest of my family." His tone was hostile.

"NO!" Lucien hissed so that Anakin could barely hear him. "IT'S NEVER BEEN MAGIC. YOU NEED TO LET GO, ANNIE."

"Let go of what?" Anakin yelled over the rushing sound of the wind in his ears. But Lucien did not answer him. "Great!" mumbled Anakin.

The sound of the wind was getting to him. "ENOUGH!" he yelled, and suddenly he stopped falling, but the darkness once again started to win the battle against the golden glow.

Anakin took a deep breath. "Okay, okay," he kept his tone even. "I'm sorry. We can keep hurtling through space."

"THAT'S NOT WORKING!" Lucien spoke.

"So, then what?" Anakin snapped.

Lucien sighed, "I CAN'T HELP YOU, ANNIE. THIS IS YOUR FIGHT."

"Great!" Anakin batted away the piece of black shadow that looked like a cobra read to strike at his face.

"ANNIE?" Came a hesitant but recognizable voice.

The blond froze, taken aback. "Dad?" Anakin called out, looking around but seeing nothing but the endless glowing white.

"YOU NEED TO RELAX," Leo's voice became steadier with every word. "JUST THINK."

"About what?" Anakin inquired, doing his very best not to get pissed. This was starting to get annoying.

"WHAT ARE YOU SO ANGRY ABOUT?" Leo asked.

"Not you, too!" Anakin half cried.

"ANAKIN," Leo started again, ignoring the last comment, "LUCIEN HAS EXPLAINED SOME OF WHAT IS GOING ON TO US. YOU NEED TO TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE ANGRY ABOUT."

"Lucien?" Anakin asked, hardly daring to believe his ears. "You're with Lucien," he added, "at home?"

"YES," Leo answered curtly, "BUT WE CAN'T WASTE TIME. LUCIEN DOESN'T HAVE A LOT OF IT."

With that, Anakin's heart sunk. "Why?"

"THIS NEW POWER," Leo explained. "IT'S VERY TIRING."

"But … he's alive?" Anakin inquired hopefully. "He's really alive?"

"YES," Leo answered, obviously trying to keep a calm voice, but his anger was seeping through. "BUT RIGHT NOW, ALL YOU NEED TO CONCENTRATE ON IS YOURSELF."

"Alright," Anakin conceded. He remained silent, pondering over his life. Sure, there were things that got his blood boiling, but he had moved past them, or at least he thought so. Yes, he thought magic was the worst thing to happen to his family, but he understood the importance of his family's destiny. It sucked that he had lost everyone he cared about but he was back in the past, intent on fixing everything. He was furious with himself for killing Wyatt and Chris, but it had not happened yet in this timeline.

No matter what he thought about, he had a perfectly reasonable rebut after it.

"There's nothing, Dad." Anakin said finally. "Unless you count that fact that it's a little bit annoying to be surrounded by blinding white."

"ANAKIN, YOU HAVE TO LOOK DEEPER THAN THAT." Leo's voice was urgent. "AREN'T YOU MAD ABOUT YOUR MOM AND ME DYING?"

"Yes, but –" Anakin started.

"NO BUTS," Leo interrupted him. "IF YOU CAN RECALL THE EVENT AND YOU STILL GET EVEN REMOTELY ANNOYED, THAT'S WHAT YOU ARE LOOKING FOR."

"Well, then," Anakin took a deep breath, "how about the freaking Charmed-destiny crap?"

"WHAT ABOUT IT?" Leo asked.

"It's bull—er, it's ridiculous that our family is governed by the selfish pursuits of evil beings and almighty idiots." Anakin started and once he started, continued. What felt like forever, he continued to vent all his frustrations and anger. Slowly, as he did so, the rest of the darkness started to bulge and bubble in a similar fashion to the small bubble that had formed over his mouth. "…and the Elders act as if they're above everyone else when it is us _lowly_ mortals doing or their dirty work!"

And suddenly the bubbles started to explode and the darkness was replaced by a glowing gold light.

"I think he's coming out of it," Leo whispered, opening his eyes.

The attic was filled with the entire Halliwell family in various degrees of injury. Even Henry and Coop were covered in minor cuts and ash of vanquished demons. Wyatt and Chris were huddled next to their father. Both still had brownish-red, sticky blood seeping down their faces from deep scratches, probably caused by a crazed harpy. Piper, bloodied and gaunt, had taken her position in front of Anakin's head and was supporting it on her lap; she gently brushed Anakin's hair off his forehead with a damp cloth. Most of the cousins were standing a few feet back, still not entirely sure what to think of the situation. The younger Anakin was standing next to Prue staring at the wounded Anakin in mild shock. Prue was crying softly while at the same time trying to comfort her youngest brother. Phoebe and Paige were both doing their best to comfort their older sister and failing miserably at it.

The only person who seemed apathetic to the situation was Lucien, who stood in a corner in complete and utter silence. His brown eyes were shut and a frown creased across his forehead. His fingertips glowed a slight golden hue and if someone was paying close attention, they would see that his breathing was completely in sync with Anakin's. He opened his eyes and the glow slowly diminished.

"He's beaten it," Lucien said with a sigh that both revealed his exhaustion and utter relief.

All eyes focused on Anakin, whose body had started to levitate off the floor in a similar fashion as it had done when he had made the prediction. Piper scrambled back, looking warily at her levitating son. As he floated higher into the air the sunlight outside darkened. Lucien's eyes flashed in concern and he rose both of his hands and the wind outside kicked up. Anakin opened his eyes and they were an angry red with golden pupils, giving him a horribly deranged look. Lightning shot down from the cloud that was blocking the setting sun and shattered the attic's windows. Some of the occupants in the attic screamed in fright, but Lucien only intensified his efforts to dissipate the growing storm.

"Anakin," the concerned brunet yelled despite the effort it took. Lightning crashed into some of the cabinetry in the attic, causing the wood to catch flame. Lucien snapped his fingers, extinguishing the flames, and in a desperate voice called out again. "Anakin, you need to stop this!"

Anakin's red eyes focused on Lucien. A crooked smile spread across the blond's face. "One will stand against them…"

"Anakin!" Lucien yelled, dodging that electric spark that sprang through the window. He brushed the hair out of his face and redirected another lightning bolt harmlessly out the already shattered window. "That isn't me!"

"The battle for the world has begun," Anakin said with an evil cackle before exploding in a burst of blinding white light.

The explosion ripped through the attic sending persons and objects crashing into each other. Lucien was the only one besides Wyatt and Chris to stay rooted to the ground. Wyatt lowered his blue shield as both brothers, confused and fearful, exchanged glances between a determined Lucien and the maddened figure of their youngest brother.

Lucien took a step forward, further rooting himself to the floor as the wind picked up once again. "If you want to kill me," Lucien said softly, looking directly at Anakin, "Leave them out of this, _Jonathan_."

Anakin cackled once again and giant bolts of fiery blue-white lightning streaked through the windows. The bolts circled around Anakin, who pointed a finger at Lucien. Lucien's eyes softened in defeat and he lowered his hands, leaving himself utterly defenseless, and the bolts of lightning hit him in the chest. His entire body lit up, his muscles spasming as a reflexive response, and his hair started to smoke.

"No!" Anakin yelled, and suddenly the storm vanished. His eyes changed back to their usual bright blue.

Lucien dropped to the floor in a smoking heap. Anakin, eyes dripping with tears, ran over to him. He dropped to the floor screaming, "God, no!"

Wyatt snapped out of his stupor. "Anakin?"

"Help him!" Anakin pleaded, not looking up. When Wyatt did not move, the blond looked up beseechingly. "Please, Wyatt. I can't lose him."

"What happened?" Wyatt looked around at the destroyed attic.

"No idea," Anakin answered in a desperate tone, still holding Lucien tight.

Wyatt knelt down beside Anakin and looked at Lucien with a quizzical frown. "What happened to him?"

"Heal now, question later!" Anakin snapped.

"Alright, alright." Wyatt bent down and raised his hand over Lucien's body. His palms glowed and the burn marks on Lucien's body disappeared. Lucien let out a gasping breath, and Anakin enveloped him in a rib-cracking hug.

"C-Can't breathe here, Anakin." Lucien choked out, but he nevertheless had a smile plastered on his face.

"Oh," Anakin quickly released Lucien, "right." Anakin gave Lucien another hug, which the brunet returned.

"Now, can I know why our attic looks like a bomb went off?" Wyatt inquired as he stood up.

"Yeah," Chris joined the conversation. "One minute we were celebrating our victory over the demons that attacked us, and the next, we're up here like this." Chris looked down at Lucien, "Great to finally meet you, Lucien."

Lucien gave Chris a small smile. "Nice to see you too, Chris."

"Can we get back to the problem at hand?" Wyatt stated.

Anakin shrugged. "I don't have a clue. All I remember is asking Uncle Coop for a glass of water and then everything going dark. Then I heard Lucien's voice and I woke up to this." He gestured over the rubble of the attic.

The three boys turned their attention to Lucien. Lucien cleared his throat. "It's the backfire of the power I used to save you," he lied.

"Save me?" Anakin looked down and gasped. "But – how?" He had been so preoccupied with waking up to see Lucien in a smoking heap that he had not noticed that his body was completely free of the black bruises that had only too recently covered the majority of his body.

Lucien stood up and helped Anakin to his feet. "I'll explain everything," Lucien said in a self-conscious whisper. "But I think your family needs help at the moment."

The three brothers turned around and saw for the first time just how bad of a state the attic was in. As Wyatt started to orb piece of the carnage off the badly beaten bodies of the Halliwell family, Lucien quietly slipped out of the attic.

An hour later, Anakin found Lucien seated in the backyard of the Manor, pondering the few stars whose light broke through the billowing grey clouds. Anakin remained silent and watched Lucien from afar. He was still taken aback that Lucien was here in the same time, with him. Anakin sighed deeply and started across the damp lawn.

"They've all been completely healed," Anakin announced, taking a seat next to Lucien.

Lucien nodded and smiled, but did not face Anakin. They sat in silence staring up at the star-strewn sky. Anakin tried to place his hand in Lucien's, but Lucien jerked his hand back. Anakin sighed and closed his eyes.

Finally, Anakin could no longer keep quiet. "Lucien?" he asked, looking at the curly-haired teen. "What's wrong?"

"I never met your family," Lucien said in a barely audible whisper. "I appeared in that attic surrounded pretty much by a bunch of strangers and you lying on the floor, not breathing."

"You seemed to be able to take charge though," Anakin stated happily. "Dad vaguely remembers you stepping in to save my life."

"Among others," Lucien muttered as he stood up. Out loud he said, "They won't remember much. The spell scrambles memories."

"But you remember?" Anakin questioned, also standing up. "Right?"

"I – yes," Lucien regrettably answered, still avoiding Anakin's gaze. "But it's not something I wish to." When Anakin was about to ask another question Lucien interrupted him. "And I certainly don't want to talk about it," he paused and took a deep, calming breath, "not yet, anyways." Lucien started to walk back to the back door.

Anakin followed a few steps behind, his mind still buzzing with questions which were multiplying as he tried to understand Lucien's behavior. "Fine," Anakin said, trying to keep the resentment out of his voice.

They walked in silence a few more steps before Anakin started up the conversation once again. "Can you at least tell me how you came to be back here?"

"The Powers That Be saw fit to give you a helping hand," Lucien answered apathetically.

Anakin bristled at the statement. More than a bit annoyed, the blond reached out and tried to grab Lucien's arm in an attempt to stop the remote teen. He missed. Giving up all pretenses Anakin stopped dead in his tracks with a huff. In a half yell he stated, "You don't seem all that pleased with it, though."

"Anakin!" Lucien turned around and for the first time looked the blue-eyed boy in his eyes. And for the first time, he sounded like he was actually telling the truth. "It's not that," his voice softened and he gave Anakin a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I _am _happy to be here, but it's complicated."

"What exactly, is complicated?" Anakin inquired, still not entirely satisfied that he had gotten the whole truth but he continued to follow Lucien back up to the house, temper considerably lessened.

Lucien walked slowly and deliberately kept Anakin in earshot. "For instance, I'm back in a timeline where I'm being abused," Lucien lied, turning around to look at Anakin once again. In the end, it was obvious Anakin was not buying Lucien's answer, so the teen whispered, "I'm worried about just how much of our lives we are going to change by saving your family."

Lucien took the last couple of steps to the back door before speaking once again, "Not everything is going to turn out for the best, Anakin."

"What do you mean?" Anakin placed a hand on the door to stop Lucien from opening it. He tried to look into Lucien's eyes but Lucien was careful not to meet the blond's gaze.

Lucien sighed. "Do you really think we're going to meet if this works out?"

Anakin bit his lip; the question caught him off guard. "I've never expected anything else to happen," he finally said.

"I heard the younger you talk," Lucien said quietly. "The deaths of your cousins changed you a lot, Anakin. And not all of it is bad." With that, Lucien wrenched open the door and strode through, leaving behind a dumbfounded Anakin.

"Lucien?" Piper inquired in a concerned voice as Lucien breezed through the kitchen. The teen paused but did not turn around; his shoulders were slumped as if in defeat, or perhaps, regret. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Piper," Lucien lied. "I'm just tired, that's all."

Piper nodded. In a casual tone she said, "Well, I know for a fact that Anakin's room is open if you want to lie down before dinner."

"Dinner?" Asked Lucien, taken aback. "Isn't it past midnight?"

"Well," Piper paused, "yeah." She turned off the oven's timer as she continued, "But I'm still not letting this food go to waste. Besides, it is still my daughter's birthday and she deserves to celebrate. I'll call you when everything is ready."

"Thanks," Lucien mumbled, a bit flabbergasted by Piper's upbeat attitude. "I think I'll take you up on that offer." He disappeared through the kitchen doors.

Anakin walked through the back door moments later muttering to himself and shaking his head slowly.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Piper questioned, getting back to stirring the contents of a large metal pot. The sounds of the rest of the family moving around could be vaguely heard through the doors.

"Nothing," Anakin said automatically. He wandered across the room until he reached the opposite side of the large island in the center of the cluttered kitchen. He took a seat in the tall barstool. In a tired and vulnerable tone he asked, "What do you remember of today's events, Mom?"

Piper remained silent for a few minutes, pondering the question. In an almost hesitant voice she answered. "I remember preparing for Prue's birthday, talking to you, Wyatt's near-death experience, you coming back to warn us of the attack; I remember battling the demons and winning, but then it gets a bit hazy. I think something happened to you and then Lucien showed up and then everything went black. Next thing I know, you are standing over me, healing me. Why?" Piper looked over her shoulder at her youngest son.

Anakin shrugged half-heartedly. "Lucien said that you wouldn't remember much—a backfire of the ability he used to cure me." In a voice that Piper had to strain to hear, Anakin muttered, "Only thing is, Lucien is an elemental. He doesn't have any power remotely related to healing." He peered at Piper, searching for answers.

Piper moved the pot off the stove and gave Anakin her full attention. "Well maybe he was granted another power for the Greater Good. I mean, if he hadn't shown up you would have died, right?"

"Yeah, that's what he said." Anakin muttered, unconsciously snapping the raw carrots in front of him.

"And you don't believe him?" Piper asked gently, saving the remaining carrots from Anakin's wrath.

"It's not that I don't believe him," Anakin started and then stopped, a frown passing over his face. It was difficult to put into words. Slowly: "Why him? And how did he get back here? He _died_, Mom. I felt it." In between each question he paused, biting his lip, searching for the right words.

"While hurtling through the space-time continuum," Piper said knowledgably. "You could have been mistaken. You're powerful sweetie, but you were under a lot of duress. You might have just imagined that you felt him die."

Anakin nodded slowly, not entirely convinced, but satisfied enough to drop the subject. Piper, after all, was not the person he needed to voice this question to, anyway.

The kitchen fell into silence, which Piper endured comfortably. She had learned that with boys you should not press a matter. Anakin finally looked up into his mother's comforting brown eyes. "Lucien believes we won't meet if I risk this. That losing Prue and everyone else changed me…"

"Ah," Piper sat down across from her youngest. "And now we get to the meat of the matter."

"What if he's right Mom?" Anakin asked, worried. "I can't really imagine being happy without him."

"Well," Piper said slowly, "you've made this choice once before." Anakin paled. She continued in a much more reassuring tone. "Anakin, if you're meant to be together, then you'll meet. I mean, if you need an example of love conquering all, just look at your Dad and me. No matter what life and the Elders throw at us, we prevailed."

A smile crept onto Anakin's face. "But what if—"

"Anakin," Piper reached out and took Anakin's hand in her soft one. In a strong, comforting voice she said, "Sweetie, enjoy the time you have with him. And you'll figure everything out as it comes. Today has too many worries for you to be concerned about tomorrows."

Anakin rolled his eyes at the proverb but smiled nonetheless. "Thanks, Mom." Anakin took a deep breath. "But I'm your son. It's not in my nature to stop worrying."

Piper smiled. "The only thing you can do, then, is talk to him."

"He's not in a talking mood," Anakin muttered, looking down at the bread board.

"Give him time," Piper answered wisely. "You're a fighter, and from what I can remember from the attic, so is he." Then in a much more guarded tone, she voiced, "And Anakin, you are only eleven. You have your whole life in front of you to find each other."

"Well, I'm actually only eight, technically speaking." Anakin said finally with a small smile.

It took a moment for Piper to put the whole thing together. Then she gently slapped Anakin's hand and smiled. "Don't give me a headache, Annie."

"Yeah, well," Anakin exhaled, glad for the change of subject, "we kind of have to figure out that whole situation."

"Can't you just glimmer?" Piper inquired.

"It was too confusing," Anakin stated. "Being called a different name – and it's draining."

"Well," Piper got back to cooking, "I know that you, this-time-you, is begging to be called by his middle name."

"Pearson?" Anakin cringed. "Oh God, no."

"What's wrong with Pearson?" Piper asked indignant. "He was my favorite boyfriend in high school."

"I rest my case," Anakin stated with a wry grin. "Who on earth names their kid after an ex-boyfriend?"

"Well," Piper rolled her eyes, "Leo's cousin was named Pearson, as well."

"A wonderful coincidence," Anakin said sarcastically.

Piper just laughed. "Well you went through this before. You explain why you dislike Anakin at this point in time."

Anakin wrinkled his brow and slowly revelation dawned on him. "I vaguely remember being annoyed with all the _Star Wars_ jokes."

"Really?" Piper asked. "I always thought it was endearing."

"Only because you fancied Mark Hamill." Anakin retorted. "Being asked to shapeshift into Darth Vader all the time gets old very quickly."

"Well," Piper drummed her fingers over her lips pondering. "I still think it's the easiest way to settle our current situation."

Anakin nodded with a yawn. "Whatever you think," he yawned once again, "Mom."

"Good," Piper smiled. "It's settled then. I'm sure Ana – err – I mean, _Pearson_ will be thrilled."

"Just change it back when I outgrow this stage, ok?" Anakin pleaded.

Piper rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Fine, Annie."

"Thanks," he flashed his mother another smile before rising from his seat. "Where did Lucien go anyway?"

"He's resting in your –er, Pearson's room." Piper frowned. "We're going to need a few extra rooms if you and Lucien are going to stay here."

"Wyatt will enjoy that," Anakin said with a smile. "He's been dying for a chance to use his latest powers."

Piper raised an eyebrow. "What new powers?"

"Oh," Anakin looked at Piper, alarmed. "Right, you don't know yet. Shit! He's going to kill me."

"Language!" Piper admonished mildly.

Anakin nodded apologetically. "Yeah, well…"

Piper nodded, "Going to tell me what power at least?"

Anakin chewed on his lip. "Fine, but you have to act surprised when he tells you okay?" Piper nodded. "Alright," he took a deep, bracing breath, "Wyatt can conjure things into existence."

"That's a warlock's power," Piper exclaimed softly, leaning against the counter to keep herself upright.

"Not exactly," Anakin stated. "It's just not a very common witch power." He pushed forward to try and calm Piper. "Anyway, he can conjure up another bedroom for me and Lucien…"

Piper, still trying to wrap her mind around the news of Wyatt powers, nodded along. She gave Anakin an I-don't-think-so look as she said, "Just one room?"

"Aww, Mom!" Anakin complained. "Why not?"

"For the same reason I have Wyatt, Chris, and Prue leave their doors open whenever they have someone of the opposite gender in there with them." Piper stated in a stern tone. "If Wyatt can conjure up one, then he can easily conjure up another."

Anakin sighed softly. "Fine, Mom."

"Glad you agree," Piper stated, returning to her dishes, "Because it wasn't up for discussion."

Anakin started to open the kitchen door when Piper spoke up again. "You're going to have to explain some things to the rest of the family, you know."

Anakin closed his eyes. "Think they'll wait 'til tomorrow?"

Piper shrugged. "They were supposed to already be returning to their respective homes, but the attack kind of messed up our plans."

Anakin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'll tell them."

Piper gave Anakin a supportive smile. "If they're a hassle, you can always take refuge in here. I officially banished everyone from this kitchen after Phoebe burnt my _third _cake."

"I'll keep that in mind." Anakin gave his mom a small smile and walked out the doors and out of sight.

"Anakin!" Wyatt yelled and grabbed his youngest brother by the shoulders. "Just the person everyone has been dying to see."

Anakin gave Wyatt a venomous look. "Some big brother you are."

"Sticks and stones bro," Wyatt stated nonchalantly. "Sticks and stones."

"Well," Anakin started hesitantly, "what do you want to know?"

The questions were shot out in a thunderous roar. Finally, the adults got the cousins to shut their mouths.

Phoebe gave Anakin a smile. "Do you know everyone here?"

Anakin looked around the room and nodded. "Yip," he said cheerfully. "No one's changed."

Paige took the next question. "What happened in the attic?"

Anakin opened his mouth. "Err – I'm not quite sure. I just know that Lucien saved my life."

"Who's Lucien?" inquired Penelope Brenan Mitchell, Paige's oldest daughter, although only by a couple of minutes. She took after her father in her coloring. She had very tan skin and deep brown eyes. She had long dark brown hair that had only the slightest waves in it.

A couple of the girls followed this with, "Yeah, he's cute."

Anakin felt himself go red slightly. "He's…" he looked at the younger version of himself sorrowfully. "…my boyfriend."

There were several gasps and a few eyes found the younger Anakin, who turned beet red.

"Sorry," Anakin looked at Pearson. "Er – Pearson."

Pearson looked at Anakin quizzically for a second. "What?"

"Pearson," Anakin stated again. "Our middle name."

"Yeah," the eight-year-old stated harshly, "Got that. Boyfriend?"

Anakin nodded slowly. "He's my boyfriend. We meet him just after our eleventh birthday."

Pearson pulled a face and sunk deeper into the couch. "I hate magic."

Anakin nodded and smiled sadly. "I feel the same way sometimes."

"So what's he like?" This came from Pyrrha Temperance Mitchell, Penelope's twin. She took after her mother with pale perfect skin. She had blue-grey eyes that stood out with her usually vivid red hair although she had charmed it to be more of a mild highlighted color. It looked like she had light red-brown hair. It was also curlier than her twin sister's brown hair.

"Uhm," Anakin stumbled over his words. "That's not really the issue here."

"But you're a boy," Henry Jr. stated, slightly confused. "And he's a boy."

"Yes," Anakin stated, looking imploringly at Paige and Henry, his parents.

Henry was a mixture of his parents. He had his mom's pale skin and his dad's blue-grey eyes. He had his dad's nose and chin. He wore his brown hair long enough so that it covered his ears, which he believed stuck out. Being the youngest of the family, Henry Jr. was renowned for getting into trouble and being a prankster. But he was also easily singled out as being the most naïve.

"We'll discuss that just now sweetheart," Paige jumped in. "It's way past your bedtime anyway," Paige pretended to check her watch. "Come on, let's put you to bed in Wyatt's room."

Anakin mouthed a 'thank you' as Paige passed pushed along an annoyed and pouting Henry Jr.

"Alright," Anakin looked at the remaining members of his family.

"Why are you here?" Paisley Julia Love inquired. She was the oldest of Phoebe's three girls. She had flowing brown hair that she never tied up except in science class. Like the majority of the Halliwell family, she had brown eyes; but as many people discovered, her eyes were most like Grams, her mother's grandmother.

Anakin took a deep breath. "I came back to try and stop a calamity from occurring."

"Care to explain?" Prue, Anakin's sister, asked.

Anakin bit his lip. "Like I said before," he started out slowly, "today, a number of you died in my timeline. By the time I turn eleven, the only ones left are … well, my parents and brothers." There were a few gasps and most paled at the news. "I came back to stop that from happening."

Phoebe took up the conversation as most of the teens were is varying degrees of horror and disbelief. "Annie? How can we help?"

"By being careful," Anakin answered softly. "I can't say any more than that."

"Why not?" Henry gently demanded.

"It's too dangerous," Anakin said, looking at the sole mortal in the room. Leo had disappeared into the kitchen. "I don't want to tip off any demons to the fact that I know their plans." Then, in a much softer voice, "and I don't want to say it again." He swallowed hard.

Patricia Moore Love, Phoebe's second oldest, spoke up. "So we just have to trust you?"

Patricia had light brown hair naturally but she had dyed it a dark blond. Her brown eyes were the most like her mother's own brown orbs. She was probably the most sarcastic of the cousins and almost always had a smirk on her face.

Anakin nodded. "It's simpler that way."

"He'll have my help," Wyatt said softly when Patricia continued to measure up Anakin with his eyes.

"Oh, so the two people to almost die today are going to be our heroes." Patricia stated. "I feel absolutely amazing."

"Patricia!" Phoebe admonished.

"No," Anakin gave Phoebe a smile. "Patricia, if you think you can do better than me and Wyatt as your protectors, then name them."

"Mom, for one," Payton Emily Love blurted out.

"That's what we did last time," Anakin stated gravely. "We relied on our parents to protect us. It didn't work."

"So are you expecting us to just lay back and watch?" Pyrrha asked in an indignant tone.

"No," Anakin shook his head. "I'm just not sure you all need to know how you all die, ok?"

"Oh." Pyrrha muttered, falling silent.

Anakin glanced over his captive audience. "You are all my family and I love you more than you could possibly ever know. I also know that I could not keep you from fighting, even if I stripped you all of your powers. But you need to trust that this knowledge will not help you – it would only distract you."

"Yeah," Wyatt spoke up. "Believe me. I wouldn't want to know."

"Do you?" Prue asked.

Wyatt nodded. "Part of being the older brother, Prue."

"Let's not get into that tonight," Piper stated from the kitchen doors, to Anakin's relief. "Dinner's ready."

A week later, Anakin found Lucien sitting outside in the backyard watching various birds in the single oak tree.

"You know," Anakin started, walking out the kitchen door. "That tree was planted by my grandfather the day after my birthday."

"Lovely fact," Lucien said with a sigh. "Come to confront me?"

Anakin took a seat. "Well, you have been avoiding me."

"Which, I might add has kept the peace in the house so far." Lucien muttered, looking back at the tree.

"I've been having dreams," Anakin revealed. "Dreams about what happened during the time I fall unconscious."

"You weren't unconscious Anakin," Lucien almost snapped. "You were dead. The disease had consumed you and your heart gave out."

"But you saved me." Anakin prompted softly.

"Yes." Lucien answered curtly, "I did."

"How?" Anakin asked, getting slightly annoyed.

Lucien closed his eyes. "By driving out the beast that was reacting with the disease."

"So you don't have some brand new power!" Anakin exclaimed in triumph.

"Not precisely," Lucien admitted with a look of sadness. "I did have a cure to your disease and I used it. But it's not a power."

Anakin frowned. "A potion?"

"Something like that," Lucien shifted uncomfortably. "But it didn't work, or at least, not immediately. You were possessed, Anakin. And the person who possessed you unleashed your anger and drowned out any other emotions you felt. And I wasn't really the one who saved you – Leo was the one who was able to talk some sense into you."

"But Dad doesn't have any powers except the power to heal." Anakin declared, bemused.

"You're a powerful telepath, Anakin." Lucien stated. "Somehow your power locked onto me when I arrived in the attic. It felt like my mind was being pressed slowly between two millstones. But it gave me access to you, and I used it."

Anakin frowned. "But I thought—"

"Eventually I was able to convince Wyatt to, well, I don't know," Lucien paused and scrunched up his nose. "I guess the best way to describe it is he patched your father into the connection you established with me."

"So, me being swallowed up by black shadows is not just my vivid imagination at work, then." Anakin stated more than asked.

"No," Lucien answered. "But it was scary to see you dying and being absolutely helpless to do anything about it."

"But I got out of that … the potion destroyed the disease."

Lucien nodded. "It worked, but you were weakened beyond belief. And that gave your possessor another chance at taking over your mind."

"And I attacked you," Anakin whispered as he, too, looked up into the sky, too scared to meet Lucien's eyes.

"Yes," Lucien affirmed. "But you won out in the end. You were able to beat him out of your mind."

"Who?" Anakin asked. "Any idea?"

Lucien let out a suppressed sigh of relief. "No," he lied. "But he's probably still out there plotting for another attempt."

They remained silent for a while longer. Slowly, Anakin built up the courage to ask, "How'd you get here?"

Lucien looked at the ground in silence. Anakin prompted him once again. He lifted his head and looked Anakin in the eyes. "The Powers sent me back."

"The Elders?" Anakin asked for clarification.

"No," Lucien shook his head. "Their bosses. They froze time just before the Source's attack hit me. They healed me and then took me away." Lucien closed his eyes. "It was cold and dark. They spoke in hisses and grunts and never let me out of their sight. One of them, a female, I think, kept coming to me and looking into my eyes with her emotionless blue ones. Afterwards they would start arguing again, hissing and muttering. Finally, after another of her inspections, she exploded. I thought was a goner then. I mean, in arguments, she seemed to always be on my side, I think.

"But once she exploded a man took over the inspections until he, too, exploded in a similar fashion. Then," Lucien shuddered, "a man … well, he wasn't really a man. He was burnt horribly and his remaining eyes hung out of its sockets." Lucien closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "It was horrible. He grabbed me with his slimy hand and his skin fell off. He told me inside my mind to pick up the skin." Anakin gagged. "Inside one of his fingers was the potion. He told me that you were failing in your mission. That – well – that the circumstances were playing against you. He ordered me to give you the potion and do everything to save you."

"Oh," Anakin muttered. "That's nice of them."

Lucien nodded. "Then they told me if I were to fail, the world would fall under the control of evil for a thousand years."

"Alright," Anakin was still slightly confused at why Lucien had avoided telling him this.

"It's not over yet," Lucien said ominously. "That was just a test. They foresaw a great battle … one that not all of us survive."

""_One to be forever glorified … one to be forever punished … one to be forever overshadowed … and one to never truly fit in. Only through this can the punished be saved … only then can the great evil be stopped. Four together … stronger than any … four united … Who'd dare stand in their way."_ Anakin muttered.

"Yes!" Lucien exclaimed. "Although, their ending was a bit more dark and bleak."

"Alright," Anakin stated. "Why couldn't you just tell me this a week ago?"

"Because," Lucien closed his eyes. "They told me who the great evil was, Annie."

"Great!" Anakin jumped to his feet.

"No," Lucien whispered. "Anakin, they said the great evil is someone I love. The prophecy is about your brothers, sister … and me going up against you, Annie."

Anakin paled. "But … that can't be right."

"Anakin," Lucien began, "what else could it mean? There are only two people in the world I love, Annie. One is you, and the other is my father. And unless you can think of a way that a mortal can become the Source of All Evil – that only leaves one alternative."

Anakin felt sick. It could not be true. "Why'd they save me, then?" He yelled.

Lucien could only shrug at that. "No idea, Annie."

"Get away." Anakin suddenly seethed. "Go!"

Lucien stood up. "Annie, we can stop this."

"Yeah?" Anakin growled. "Then why were you so hesitant to tell me, then?"

Lucien's comforting smile faltered. "I was thinking. I was trying to find a way in which it would not mean you."

Anakin huffed. "And?"

Lucien backed away slowly. "Annie, not all predictions come to fulfillment. You know that."

"Leave!" Anakin yelled again.

Lucien gulped. "But—"

"GO!" Anakin raised his hand and Lucien was thrown a few feet backwards.

Lucien got back to his feet and watched helplessly as Anakin disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs.


	9. Failure to Decapitate

Failure to Decapitate

Magic School was a massive network of endless marble hallways lined with dark wooden doors. Most doors led to classrooms, and a few were the entrances to the two dormitories. The rest, like the one he had just walked through, were portals to the outside world. He had never really been in the school for any extended period of time. Sure, he visited his father when he was younger, but those were distant memories of being holed up in the headmaster's office staring at boring old books as his dad fixed some problem or another. He had never enjoyed his visits to his father's work and had disliked them even more so after he discovered the whole truth.

Anakin had been raised to believe he and the rest of his family were perfectly one-hundred percent normal. Or at least as normal as a family could be with a world-renowned advice columnist and novelist in the family. He had spent his first few school years in a small private school, but in the second grade—after much complaining and nagging—he had convinced his mother to allow him to attend their neighborhood public elementary school. The same school he had been led to believe that his brothers attended. His parents had the lie completely built up: he had even been recruited by them to pick up his or Chris's or Wyatt's homework whenever one of them had been "absent". He had wondered a couple of times why he never saw his brothers at school. His family had an answer for that as well: Wyatt and Chris were protecting their "images." After all, having your little brother sitting with you at lunch was hardly a way to impress the guys.

Prue, as far as he knew, was home schooled, something all three brothers thought was incredibly unfair. Every time he brought it up, Piper would roll her eyes and pose, "would you want me as your teacher?" To which he would quickly answer, "no." And that ended the discussion. All his siblings had been perfectly disciplined into not revealing the slightest bit of magic in front of him. So he lived his life in complete ignorance of this entire other side of his family's turbulent history.

But all that changed when his parents finally informed him of the big secret. It had been his father who had told him everything. They had sat in the headmaster's office, which at the time he believed to be of one of the numerous small private schools in the Bay area. Leo gently started to tell him stories of three powerful witches who battled against evil, who had a destiny. Slowly he worked his way up to one of the witches having one kid and then another, and another, and finally, another. Even though he was seven-and-a-half at the time, it did not take Anakin long to realize that his father was not telling him everything.

And that was when his whole world came crashing down around him. One of the students at the school as requested orbed into the office to collect a piece of paper from Leo. Anakin, never having seen magic being performed before, fainted. When he came to his entire family was clustered around him, the kids all in their Magic School uniforms.

His mother had been the one to explain why they had tried so desperately to keep this a secret from him. The fact that this wonderful gift, that was his birthright, was slowly killing him. His mom explained how she and her sisters had bound his powers in order to slow down the disease but now the Elders had a solution to the problem, and that it was now his choice whether or not he wanted to be a witch. Of course at the time, he was simply overwhelmed and did not give his mother an answer. Unfortunately, that was the only chance he had to give up his powers. For after that…

Anakin shook his head. This was not the time to be reminiscing. He was on a mission. He passed the fabled Hall of History; fabled because most students avoided the corridor at all costs except when they were in class. Anakin did not blame them for hating the class as history was intensely boring and, for the most part, had no practical applications. He walked past the ghost town and turned down the next corridor. This was one of the numerous English corridors. It was a stark contrast to the history one. Here, students dallied around, talking over poems and rhymes. They would have hated the subject but basic poetic structure was essential for any magical being to understand.

Following the English corridors was the spell writing section of the school, then potions, anatomy, and finally he arrived at his intended destination. He stood still, clearing his thoughts and steeling himself for the bad news that he felt sure would come even if it was a long ways off.

The main library in the center of the school, he knew from his siblings' conversation, was all but useless if you were searching for something other than a major magical artifact or just some basic magical information. It was not a large room in the first place and it doubled as the main meeting room for the students and teachers. It was sparsely stocked and most of the information contained in the library was already copied into his family's Book of Shadows.

Each subject studied in Magic School however, had its own library dedicated specifically to that subject. What he desired was a little more obscure and much more likely to be hidden amongst the pristinely kept leather-bound novels of the Khresmoi Library, or as his brothers liked to jokingly call it, the Revelations Room. They always joked about how most of the books in this library were knockoffs from the book of Revelations; a pity that it was probably true. A small circular room filled from floor to ceiling with books pertaining to the art of divination, most of them probably foreboding and read like a cheap airport novel. However hidden among them were the theoretical writings of some of the most famed oracles of the ages.

J.K. Rowling's idea that all prophecies made were recorded and kept in a single room was laughable. But this library came pretty damn close to that idea. An entire third of the room was filled with parchment covered in writings and records of prophecies made over the ages. It was by no stretch of the imagination a complete collection, but it was better than relying on crumbling tombs and wild ghost stories.

Anakin walked past that section without a second thought; he was not here to read up on a thousand-year-old prophecy. He was here to find the thesis writings of the great oracles but first he needed the most important document in the room. The blond determinedly walked up to a large display case enclosed in perfectly formed glass.

The case contained artifacts pertaining to the art of divination. Crystal balls of famous oracles from across the ages took up the majority of the display although teacups, parchment of Alexander the Great's questions to the Oracle at Siwa Oasis, and the preserved innards of the bull from the time of the Roman Republic's rise to power.

Anakin studied the artifacts intently, searching for his prize. But the book was not on any of the shelves he could see. Cursing softly, Anakin looked up to see the sealed cabinet like the rest of the bookshelves in the library continued to the roof of the library a story or two above where he was standing. He stopped craning his neck and looked determinedly at the glass in front of him, and bunched up his hand until his knuckles turned white. In a fast fluid motion, he un-flexed his fingers, his nails grating against his thumb making a low hissing sound. Anakin finished the gesture and felt the destructive power burst out of his fingers. The glass shook violently and glowed pale white before lowering its rattles until they became nothing more than a low harmonic hum, similar to that of a crystal wineglass.

Anakin scrunched up his face in frustration despite knowing that the charms on the cabinet would not be easy to break. He steadied himself with a sigh and raised his hand up, preparing to repeat his actions. He was about to release the built up energy when he heard jingling. The blond quickly spun around, forgetting about the cabinet for a second to face his intruder. When he recognized Wyatt's form in the blue orbs, he screamed inside.

"You know that this cabinet is impenetrable to even Charmed magic." The older teen said in a conversational tone, placing a steady hand over Anakin's still raised one.

Anakin gave a noncommittal grunt and lowered his hand with some physical prompting from Wyatt.

Wyatt let go of Anakin's hand slowly, still keeping a careful eye on his youngest brother. When it became apparent Anakin was not going to act out or talk without further encouragement, Wyatt softened his gaze. In a soft, concerned voice the older blond asked, "Why are you here, Annie?"

Anakin brushed Wyatt aside.

Wyatt reached out quickly and caught Anakin firmly by the wrist. "You are going to answer me, Anakin." He stated in a commanding tone, usually heard in a parent's voice.

Anakin glared up at Wyatt. "You're not my father, Wyatt!" the one-armed teen hissed softly.

"No," Wyatt stated evenly, but he could not keep all the coldness out of his tone. "I am your oldest brother—"

"And that gives you the right – the authority to…" Anakin huffed, cutting Wyatt short. Anakin gathered his anger back under control and fell silent before he said something he would regret later.

The ensuing silence persisted. Anakin looked between Wyatt and the cabinet trying to figure a way out of this situation. Wyatt, on the other hand, was searching for the best way to handle Anakin so that the young teen did not lose his temper again. Both brothers caught the other's eyes and they quickly looked away, losing themselves to their thoughts.

Finally, it was Wyatt who acted. He closed his eyes and in a rational tone said, "I'm sorry – I overreacted. But can you blame me?" Wyatt paused, expecting a response, but Anakin just continued to quietly glare at him; although that glare would be quite capable of killing any other mortal. Wyatt shook his head and found his line of thought again. "You just vanished, Anakin." When Anakin still did not respond, Wyatt resorted to the last trick in his bag. "You practically gave Mom a heart attack."

The results were almost instantaneous. Anakin's expression softened. It was especially true of his eyes. They showed his sorrow, fear, and above all, determination. In a quiet, worried tone he inquired, "How did she even find out?"

"She's our _mother_, Annie," Wyatt said with a small smile. "How does she do anything?"

Anakin smiled in reminiscence. His strength and resolve to keep Wyatt in the dark shriveled into nothingness. Legs made of jelly forced the proud blond to slump into a nearby chair. Sighing heavily, he leaned forward and rested his forehead in the palm of his hand. His blond hair obscured his face from Wyatt's view but nothing could hide the sobs that racked his limp body.

Wyatt bent down next to his younger brother. "What's wrong, Annie? You can trust me."

"You're only sixteen, Wy." Anakin stated softly between sniffles. "You shouldn't have to—"

"And you're only eleven," Wyatt cut Anakin off sharply. "Nothing in this world is fair, but we deal with it and move on. Now, tell me why the heck you're here."

The sudden harshness in Wyatt's voice shocked Anakin out of his weeping. "You wouldn't understand," Anakin mumbled, roughly wiping away tears with the back of his hand.

"Not without you explaining everything," Wyatt whispered, just slightly annoyed. "You're right, I won't understand." Wyatt placed a gentle hand on Anakin's shoulder.

Anakin huffed and looked up directly into Wyatt's eyes. The blue orbs showed only concern and a willingness to give everything to help. Anakin saw this in Wyatt's eyes and longed to just accept the offered help, but some darker part of his soul took over. "Why do you care?" Anakin snarled.

Wyatt stumbled backwards, falling unceremoniously on his behind. The blue-eyed witch eyed the younger witch with concern. Wyatt pushed himself back onto his feet; he closed the gap between himself and Anakin. "I'm your brother! That's—"

"No, you're not!" Anakin yelled, jumping to his feet, going toe-to-toe with Wyatt. "My brother died! I MURDERED HIM!"

Wyatt's eyes flashed with anger. "That hasn't happened yet." Wyatt struggled to keep his voice calm but his anger was threatening to come boiling out. "And we won't let it happen this time."

"No, you're wrong. It's _destined_ to happen," Anakin voice cracked and he swallowed hard, looking furious with himself. He smiled in pride at the look of horror that passed over Wyatt's stark white face. "Or will you actually be able to kill me?" He snarled.

Wyatt regained his ability to move in a flash. He whipped his arm out and Anakin found himself pinned against one of the bookshelves. Wyatt walked forward, not lowering his arm even a millimeter. "What," he questioned furiously, "has gotten into you, Annie?"

"The truth." Anakin spat in Wyatt's face.

Wyatt froze Anakin to the spot with a glare and wiped his face clean. "Explain," he spoke calmly but his tone left no room for argument. "Now!"

"It's prophesied, Wyatt!" Anakin spoke with venom, but he did not raise his voice. "It has been foretold that we will clash in battle. And only one of us can come out alive on the other side."

Confusion crossed Wyatt's face. "What are you talking about, Annie?"

Anakin huffed in frustration. In a sarcastic, bored tone he repeated the prophecy. _"One to be forever glorified, one to be forever punished, one to be forever overshadowed, and one to never truly fit in. Only through this can the punished be saved, only then can the great evil be stopped. Four together, stronger than any, four united, who'd dare stand in their way."_

"Never heard that before." Wyatt whispered, scratching his head.

"Of course you've never heard of it before," Anakin growled. "There was only one witness to me making that prophecy and _Dad_ can't remember it ever happening."

Wyatt eyes widened. "But you're not an oracle."

"Oh my God!" Anakin rolled his eyes. "Typical, Wyatt. I'm telling you of a prophecy that's pitting me against you, and all you're worried about is that I don't have that f—" Anakin paused and collected himself. "That power."

Wyatt waved his hand and Anakin stumbled away from the bookshelf. "Well, it would negate the prophecy. I mean, if you're not really an oracle, then it's not really a prophecy. Right?"

Anakin frowned. "Hope is foolish thought for people outside of this situation, Wyatt. Others far more above and beyond simple definitions made similar predictions."

Wyatt nodded slowly. "Who?"

"The Powers That Be." Anakin whispered, sliding down to the floor.

"The Elders?" Wyatt broke into a grin and chuckled. "They're a bunch of crackpots," Wyatt stumbled into silence as Anakin shook his head. "Not the Elders, then. The others!" Wyatt's smile grew smaller but it did not vanish. "The same buffoons who decided to take Dad away from us for over a year? They really have some nerve using our family again to save their excuse for a universe."

Anakin actually smiled weakly. "They're blundering fools, but it still doesn't change the fact – _the truth_."

Wyatt nodded slowly and sunk down beside Anakin, looking around the library. "So you're here to what? Think there's a way to break a prophecy?"

"No – well, I guess," Anakin shook his head, fighting back sobs. "I don't know, Wy. I just needed to do something – anything."

"Alright," Wyatt got that determined look back in his eyes and Anakin allowed it to comfort him. "I'm no expert on this crap but I do know someone who is."

"No," Anakin snapped, "I'm not involving anyone else in this, Wy. It's bad enough you know."

Wyatt gave Anakin a sorrowful look. "It's not your decision, Annie."

"What!" Anakin grew angry again.

Wyatt stared calmly into Anakin's blue eyes. "I don't feel like killing you, Annie. And forgive me, but I'd prefer to remain among the living myself as well."

Anakin shut his eyes. "But she's not," he trailed off, searching for the right words.

"Who are you to decide if she can or can't help us?" Wyatt interrogated. "She's family, Annie. We're in this together whether you like it or not."

Anakin opened his mouth to argue but his voice failed him. The blond closed his mouth. Finally, he gave the patiently waiting Wyatt a short nod. "I'll wait here – I don't – I can't."

"No need to explain." Wyatt shot Anakin a short, comforting smile before disappearing in a swirl of blue orbs.

Anakin sighed and slowly fought his way back onto his own two feet. He approached the enclosed cabinet once again. "I know, Wyatt: it's protected," he muttered. He raised his hand out in front of him and the object, the artifacts, protected in the cabinet, began to rattle and vibrate across the wooden shelves. At first, it was slowly as if fighting against Anakin. Anakin grew more confident and enforced his will on the objects. They slowly lifted off the shelves and levitated, still wobbling in protest. Anakin pointed his finger at a single large crystal ball and it grew red hot before exploding out of the cabinet with enough force to securely embed itself into the marble wall behind the blond witch.

"Sorry, Isabelle," Anakin muttered, "but you're no longer using that useless piece of junk, anyway.

With the glass door shattered, Anakin easily pried open the frame and began looking through the wreckage for his prize. Freed from their entrapping wooden stand, the crystal balls took on a life of their own and scampered off the shelves, many of them smashing as they reached the floor. The few that survived the drop continued to roll down and out the library and into the main corridor. Anakin cared only to avoid being hit on the head by one of the bowling ball-sized glass orbs and ignored them once they could no longer do him any damage.

He levitated off the floor as his search took him into the higher shelves. These shelves were filled with manuscripts of important prophecies both for the magical world as well as those that had major impacts on the non-magical population. The manuscripts were written in a language foreign to Anakin and soon lay forgotten as he climbed ever higher.

Finally, he reached the pinnacle of his journey. On the final shelf lay a small leather-bound book, about the size and shape of a pocket planner. Its brown leather cover was covered in dust but even so, Anakin could see the wear and tear of the ages. He reached out and clasped the book, triumph flowing through his veins. His heart started to beat a bit fast, and in an instant, there was sudden shout and Anakin's world went black.

_Anakin found himself walking down a cold dark street. His vision was blurry and the dense fog covering the area was not helping matters much. The only light available was the promising faint orange glow from a dying city light a block or two in front of him. The sound of his soft footsteps put him on edge and he kept glancing over his shoulder, worried that someone was following him. _

_Finally, a rundown cottage grew out of the fog. From what he could see of the lawn, it consisted of weeds with a few patches of dying grass. Anakin smirked and opened the waist-height wooden white gate. The rusty old hinges creaked in protest but slowly the gate swung open. Anakin quietly shut the entrance behind him and made his way up the short stone path to the house. He approached the door and noticed that the brass numbers were either missing or hanging upside down. This further gave him the sense of confidence as he knocked twice. At once, an old lady in a floral covered nightgown opened the door, squinting at Anakin._

"_Oh, it's you, dear." The woman stepped aside to allow Anakin in. She poked her head out to make sure no one else was waiting and shut the door. Her trembling, wrinkly hands struggled to lock the door before she turned back to face Anakin. "I wasn't expecting you back for a few more days, Emanuel. But no matter, you make yourself comfortable and I'll put the kettle on. You still like tea, right? Those Americans haven't corrupted you, too?"_

"_No, ma'am, I still enjoy a cup of Earl Grey," Anakin answered automatically. "And thank you."_

"_Not at all dear," the old lady disappeared into the kitchen. She reappeared moments later. "So what brings you back here? Is your mother feeling better? I haven't been able to visit her quite yet. It takes me much longer to unpack than it used to. You know – old joints."_

_Anakin lowered his head and shook it slowly. "Father called the school – she lost her battle with the cancer, two days ago."_

"_Oh, you poor dear!" the woman gave Anakin a comforting hug. Anakin struggled not to show his disgust. "So you've come back for the funeral, then?"_

"_Yes," Anakin whispered, looking into the fireplace, "among other things."_

"_Well, you can stay here as long as you like," the lady said kindly. "I always liked having a full house and my own children are all off fighting in that war…" she trailed off. "Well, I won't bother you with the details."_

_Anakin nodded. "There's no need for you to stay up on my part. I can see to myself…" Anakin waited until she met his eyes, "…_Frederica_."_

_The old lady gasped and stumbled backwards, the fear evident in her eyes. "How do you know that name?"_

_Anakin chuckled. "You'd be surprised on just how much I know, Frederica. Mostly in concerns with a particular elemental your boss has his eyes on."_

_Frederica was breathing heavily, looking wildly for a way out. "Elemental?"_

"_Yes," Anakin stated, standing up from his chair. "He will have already been found – unfortunately, you screwed up. Now he's been turned. Your boss won't be happy when he finds that out, will he?"_

_Frederica dropped to her frail knees. "Please! I tried everything!"_

"_No," Anakin hissed harshly. "If you had used everything in your arsenal, he'd have been waiting here with you. The Source will be most displeased, but no matter, I have plans in place – ones that will negate your folly."_

"_Oh, thank you," Frederica kissed Anakin's shoes._

_Anakin kicked her and she landed in heap. "Don't you dare touch me, you—" He paused and glanced around. "He's early!"_

_Frederica was weeping in the corner, trying to stem the flow of blood from her broken nose. "Da Sauce!"_

_Anakin spun around. "Well, I guess he'll get the pleasure of finishing you off. Au revoir."_

"You idiotic maniac!" Wyatt shouted, blasting apart someone who turned into a blurry blue glow before reforming back into a fuzzy shape clothed in golden robes.

"He was caught looting the hallowed artifacts," the Elder protested. "It is a crime punishable by death. You are lucky I only knocked him out."

"What happened?" Anakin blinked, and slowly everything came rolling back into clarity. "Why's my head pounding?"

"That would be _this_ idiot's doing." Wyatt snapped, glaring at the Elder.

Anakin focused on the Elder and was surprised to see it was one of the few Elders he knew. "Benjamin?"

"Yes." The Elder replied, then frowned. "How'd you –"

"Never mind," Anakin shook head, which was a very bad idea. He closed his eyes until the pounding died down. "Alright what, exactly, is going on?"

"You are here before the Council to plead your case." Came a cold, echoing voice.

Anakin stood up and leaned against Wyatt. "I thought you'd have a hand in this, you old fraud."

"How dare you!" shouted another older-looking Elder in protest.

Anakin smiled. "I'll dare much more, you hypocritical baboon. I saved your sorry asses and this is how you repay me? You freaking electrocute my brain!"

"Alright sweetie," Piper's calm voice drifted into Anakin's slightly pounding ears. Anakin spun around to see her along with Leo and Chris standing behind a waist-high elegant wooden fence. Piper smiled to show her support. In a low whisper that nonetheless carried across the entire mock courtroom. "I think you need to play nice with the Elders just for the moment."

"I would take your mother's advice young one," advised another hooded Elder. "You are in terrible trouble as it is without aggravating the Council."

"I'm not aggravating the freaking Council," Anakin snapped back. "Just the old fools on it."

"That is ENOUGH!" warned the fourth and final member of the Council. "You will respect us or suffer the consequences."

Anakin looked at the Elder fearlessly. "I don't think your bosses will allow you the pleasure of kicking me at the moment."

"We have no bosses," said the far left Elder exasperatedly. "We are the supreme beings of the Light."

"Yeah?" Anakin mocked. "Then how come I can kill you?"

"No mere mortal can kill an Elder," stated the further Elder on Anakin's right.

Anakin shook his head sadly. "Well, then I guess I'm no mere mortal, you dimwits. I'm Anakin Halliwell."

"Impossible!" Benjamin exclaimed glanced at the hooded Elder nervously.

"Ridiculous." Shouted the furthest on the left.

The Elder on the right shouted, "Lies!"

Anakin smiled at the three Elder and turned his attention to the still silent hooded Elder. The Elder extruded power and glory and sat on the throne like chair with all the prestige of a medieval king. In a smart-aleck tone Anakin spoke. "You sense it now don't you, Gabriel?"

The Elder in question paused, quietly scrutinizing the blond witch. Despite himself Anakin shifted about nervously; it was disconcerting to have the Elder examining him so intensely. Finally, Gabriel removed his hood with a seep of his hand, revealing a head of flowing golden locks but a horribly disfigured and scarred face that, at one time, might have been majestic. "So you truly made. Many hoped you would be blocked by the time ward."

Anakin gave Gabriel a scrutinizing glare of his own. After a moment he decided to leave the topic alone. "Surely they must have warned you. Especially after one of them came to the belief that I'm the cause of the end of the world."

"But you have powers!" the right Elder interrupted, stammering. "It's not possible."

"No," Gabriel silenced the muttering Elders with that single whispered word. "Not impossible."

"But the balance!" the right Elder badgered. "They risk _the balance_."

"The balance was already at risk," Gabriel whispered. "But that does not mean I can allow two Anakins to remain in this time."

"What!" Wyatt exclaimed.

"Quiet, Blessed One," Gabriel commanded. "My duty is to protect the sanity of the universe. By having two Anakins in this timeline, we risk destroying the entire universe."

"You can't send me back," Anakin yelled. "Because there's no future for me to go back to. They cut you off. They destroyed the future when they intervened and saved Lucien."

Gabriel paused, pondering the question but he did not seem as surprised by the information as Anakin thought he should have. This Elder obviously had many more secrets and agendas than the average holier-than-thou ass in the dull gold robes. Anakin also noticed that Benjamin, the Elder that had electrocuted him back in Magic School was also quietly waiting for Gabriel to pass judgment. The remaining two Elders, somehow out of the loop, shuffled uncomfortably in the foreboding silence.

Gabriel finally moved ever so slightly and everyone's attention snapped back to the disfigured Elder. "For now, you will remain."

Anakin nodded curtly. "Thought so."

The two unknown Elders started to voice their concerns and indignation but Gabriel silenced them with a threatening glare. Benjamin remained placid studying Anakin as if having second thoughts about something.

"But," Gabriel looked pointedly down at Anakin, "Break into the hallowed artifacts again and the question of returning you to the future will no longer be a viable option."

"Why?" Chris blurted out from the spectator stands.

Gabriel glanced at the brown-haired teen in unnerving amusement.

That burned face should never have a smile on it, Anakin thought as he cringed.

The smile disappeared and Gabriel's voice was stern when he spoke. "Because I will have killed him by then."

There was rushing wind and the Halliwells found themselves once again standing in the Manor's living room.

"Ok," Wyatt started. "What the hell was that all about, Anakin?"

Anakin snapped out of his thoughts; Gabriel's actions did not sit well with him even though he came out on top. "What? Oh – I've had an encounter with those fools before. Something about ripping open the portal to our parallel universe or something."

"Not that," Wyatt snapped. "The all-knowledgeable crap you just spewed out back there."

"A bunch of lucky guesses," Anakin stated, smiling sheepishly. "There are, after all, only so many ways the Powers can make sure the universe keeps on spinning. One of those ways is to keep at least one Elder informed of their plans."

"So you planned this?" Piper yelled.

"No," Anakin shook his head. "I was in Magic School to get hold of a book. One that I was hoping could help find a way out of this mess. But I guess I'll take what I got. You're always the one telling us magic always works, Mom, just not always in the way you intended it to."

"That is pretty quick thinking for an eleven year old," Chris stated.

Anakin nodded. "Well, if you know how to push one Elder's buttons, you can push them all."

"Are you going to tell us why exactly you needed a book from the cabinet?" Leo inquired softly.

"Err," they had hit the snag Anakin had hoped to avoid. "No."

"Anakin," Piper started up, "Pearson Halliwell." Piper's eyes were imposing and she had both of her hands on her hips. The matriarch of the most powerful witch family in the world was not messing around.

"Let him be, Mom." Wyatt jumped in for Anakin's defense. "He's had a rough night, okay?" Anakin glanced at Wyatt in surprise. "He'll tell us when he's ready."

Piper tilted her head and inspected her eldest son intently; her beautiful brown eyes hard and collected. Wyatt gulped. In a slow knowing voice, "You know something."

Lucien came into the room. "Anakin! You're – O.K. – am I interrupting something?" His voice became more nervous and apologetic with every syllable.

"No," said Anakin exactly as Piper said "Yes."

Lucien bit his lip. "Well, when you're through Annie, please. I want to talk to you about … earlier."

All the muscles in Anakin's body tensed up. He swallowed audibly but nodded. "Alright."

At the word Lucien visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumped comfortably, his eyes brightened, and he broke out a grin as he walked out of the living room into the kitchen.

Piper waited barely a second longer before rounding back onto Wyatt and Anakin. "So, which of you two are going to tell your mother what is going on?"

Anakin and Wyatt kept their mouths shut.

"Alright then," Piper drummed her fingers on her chin. "Wyatt, you're grounded for the next month."

"MOM!" Wyatt spluttered.

"Tell me what's going on and I'll lower the sentence." Piper said calmly, her eyes remained calculating and very un-Piper like.

"That is _so_ not fair." Wyatt muttered.

Piper pursed her lips and crossed her arms. "A month is only the beginning, Wyatt." she warned.

"Honey…" Leo started, placing a hand on Piper's shoulder.

Piper shrugged off the hand. "No, Leo." Piper sharply stated. "They're our _kids_. Keeping secrets in this family tends to not work out for the best."

"Why do I need a reason to have to want something in that cabinet?" Anakin asked, suddenly annoyed.

"Because that cabinet is never to be opened," Leo explained. "And we know you knew that."

"You had to have a very good reason to risk something like that." Chris finished.

"And it couldn't just be that I'm an impulsive eleven-year-old?" Anakin inquired heatedly.

Piper laughed, releasing some of the tension that had built up in the room. "Anakin, you, of all people – impulsive? Sweetie, we're your parents."

"People can change." Anakin snapped, although he was hardly angry and in fact quite warm inside.

"Not that much," Piper sighed. In an instructive voice Piper started listing off her children, ticking off them off with her finger. "Wyatt's overprotective, Chris is overanxious, Prue is over-passive, and you are overcautious." She idly shook her head. "You never do anything without thinking it over a thousand times."

Anakin grumbled and mumbled under his breath.

"Come on, Annie," Piper pushed gently. "We're your parents. We can help you."

Wyatt leaned in and whispered, "Personally, I think we should tell them."

Anakin did not respond immediately. Then, hesitantly, he started: "If I tell you, you have to promise to not involve the entire family."

Piper frowned. "Why not?"

"Because," Anakin exhaled tiredly, "they don't need to know."

"They're family," Piper stated. "We work together."

Anakin closed his eyes. "Mom, please, I don't want them to know."

Wyatt gulped. "Well, that might be out of your hands."

"Why?" Anakin rounded on Wyatt.

"I had to tell Paisley why I need her to come back to San Francisco." Wyatt said softly. "And, well, I'm not as quick on my feet as you are – so I told her the truth."

Anakin's eyes widened. "Are you insane? Now they're all going to be watching me as if I'm a loose canon! Thanks a lot, Wy."

Wyatt rolled his eyes." Stop being dramatic, Anakin. They'll no sooner turn on you than me, and they all know the story about the original future. Think that particular nightmare has left me yet?"

"Oh," Anakin hissed, "that is exactly the same thing, Wyatt. I'm prophesied to murder my family and you turned evil in a future that no longer exists. Yeah, I see the similarities, completely the same thing."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Piper moved in between the two brothers. Wyatt looked hurt more than anything but she thought it was better safe than sorry. "What's this about murder?"

Anakin looked away from Piper. Wyatt, his eyes still glazed over with pain, zipped his lips when Piper glanced at him. "Anakin!"

"Fine," Anakin muttered, overwhelmed. "There's a prophecy that says, in essence, that I'm going to murder my family or they have to kill me."

Piper raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and exactly when did you find this out?"

"About the same time I disappeared this evening." Anakin stated. "That's why I was in the library. Why I need that _freaking_ book."

Piper took a deep breath. "Alright," she lowered herself slowly into the armchair. "Alright, this is what we're gonna do. Leo, you find a way to get hold of that book, if at all possible. Wyatt, honey, follow up with Paisley, please. See if she has anything at all." Piper glanced at Anakin. "And tell her to not tell anyone anything. Chris, I want you, Prue, and An—I mean Pearson, to go to Magic School and gather any books you think will help us." Piper looked up, daring any of them to question her. "Anakin, you and I are going to go search through the Book of Shadows."

"Er," Anakin frowned. "That's—"

"No, Anakin," Piper talked over him. "I'm not having _my family_ torn apart by magic once again. So you have your orders: get _going_!"

There was mass confusion as people orbed out or disappeared through wooden door portals. Piper pushed the hair out of her face and looked pointedly at Anakin. "Go talk to Lucien. I'm going to get started with the Book." She stood up and left the room.

Anakin sighed heavily, but a small, almost imperceptible smile crept across his lips. His mom was the best mom in the world, he thought his smile growing. The smile, however, faded once he reached the swinging kitchen door. The blond steeled himself for his next meeting and pushed the door open. Lucien was sitting on the island, twirling a small flame around his fingers.

"Worried?" Anakin inquired innocently, forcing a smile.

Lucien looked up and the flame vanished leaving a small puff of light gray smoke. "Done? Already?"

"Well, you know my mom…" Anakin trailed off walking over to the island.

Lucien smiled weakly. "Yeah, she's scary sometimes." He jumped off the island.

"So..." Anakin started but fell silent.

Lucien followed suit. "So?" The two sat down on the bar stools.

"I'm," Anakin ran a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. He did not know where to start. The kitchen fell into awkward silence. Anakin swallowed his heart pounding. "I'm sorry – for everything."

Lucien gulped and let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you immediately. It was stupid trying to hide this from you." His voice ran quickly, his words blurring into each other but it was impossible to miss the relief in his tone.

Anakin took Lucien's hand in his own and gave it a gentle comfortable squeeze. "Well – it was kind of – I don't know—heroic?"

Lucien laughed. "Me—a hero? You have got to be kidding!"

"Yeah, you're right." Anakin smiled. "You'd always be the scared chicken."

"Hey!" Lucien exclaimed indignantly, his smile only growing. "It's not my fault I'm going out with Mr. All-Powerful."

Anakin chuckled and the kitchen once again fell silent. This time the silence was one of contentment and happy contemplation.

"So, we're ok?" Anakin finally broke the silence. He still had a mother on the warpath to contend with.

Lucien nodded. "Yeah, _we're_ fine."

"Good!" Anakin leaned in and kissed Lucien on the cheek. "I'd better get up to the attic or Mom will have my ass."

"The attic?" Lucien inquired with a raised eyebrow. "I know the Halliwell Book of Shadows is renowned and all, but I doubt it's going to have anything that will help us."

"Tried to tell her that," Anakin explained, standing up. "But she's determined to be in charge of the situation. Wyatt got Paisley involved."

"Paisley?" Lucien frowned. "Brown-eyed, long brown hair? The one that vaguely resembles Jennifer Love Hewitt?"

Anakin nodded. "That's the one, Phoebe and Coop's eldest daughter. She's obsessed with the art of divination and all that it entails. If there was one person who knows a way to break this prediction, it would be her."

Lucien nodded. "Alright, so what can I do?"

"Uhm?" Anakin shrugged. "Chris, Prue, and Pearson—you know little me?—are at Magic School finding books. Dad's trying to get hold of an extremely protected journal. And Mom's on the rampage in the attic. Take your pick."

Lucien chuckled. "Such interesting choices. What's a boy to do?"

"Well, I personally would prefer to have someone as a witness when my Mom goes ballistic, but it's up to you." Anakin said with a small smile. They made their way up to the attic of the Manor.

Lucien followed Anakin up the last set of stairs. "I'll be your witness, Annie, but if I'm blown apart I'm coming back to haunt you."

"Who's going to be blown up?" Piper inquired, ripping open the attic door.

"Oh," Anakin hid his grin as he stepped past his mother, "it's nothing, Mom."

Piper gave Anakin a look that could have dissected a pig but let the subject drop. They had more important topics to uncover. "Alright, I've looked through Aunt Paige's index and nothing's popped out, but I've never been one to trust Paige's ideas of indexing."

"We know, Mom." Anakin said from behind the Book of Shadows. "We could always ask for a sign."

Piper rolled her eyes. "I've been at this for a few more years than you, Anakin."

"That means she already tried." Anakin muttered into Lucien's ear. Lucien smiled.

Piper shot Anakin an I-heard-that look. "Stop flirting and start working, Anakin."

Anakin turned red. "Thanks, Mom!" Anakin turned to the Book and started to flip through its pages. Lucien smirked and sat down looking through the stack of notes the Halliwells had made over the years.

_Jonathan flamed into a darkened corridor of a rotting old house. The noise of the ocean could be heard faintly over the creaking of the wooden boards and rusting nails. The golden-eyed vampire raised his hand and a small orange flame sprang to life lighting up the musky room. Jonathan blinked once and as he opened his eyes, the gold disappeared and normal inquisitive brown orbs emerged. _

"_Come out, my brethren, for I have returned." Jonathan whispered._

_Slowly, tiny bats began to appear all across the rotten floor. The bats turned into puffs of smoke that in turn transformed into pale-skinned humans with yellow, cat-like eyes. The scantily clothed men and women surrounded Jonathan, but none dared to touch him. They circled like cautious sharks waiting for the signal to attack._

_A marble-white woman with pitch black curly hair stepped out of the shadows and the other vampires parted to allow her free access to Jonathan. She was clothed in a well crafted ruby red dress that clung to her body showing off very curve, and had her cold steel grip on a boy who looked remarkably like Jonathan._

"_You know the password and smell like a child of mine, but you look nothing like a vampire." The Queen stated, walking calmly toward Jonathan._

_Jonathan lowered his head in reverence. "Forgive me mother, but I have news from the future of your latest son." He looked pointedly at the zombie teen boy standing next to the Queen._

"_Oh?" the Queen looked intrigued. "And who was gracious enough to send a lowly vampire back in time to warn me about this piece of sh—" The Queen suddenly clutched at her throat._

"_I'd prefer if you did not use such harsh language in front of me," Jonathan stated coolly. "It makes my blood boil and I do not wish to end too many lives tonight. I may need this coven in the future."_

_Queen cleared her throat and studied Jonathan cautiously. "Alright, your point is proven. What message do you have for me?'_

_Jonathan smiled. "Oh, you misjudged my meaning. When I said I had news of this child, I did not mean it was for your ears." _

_Jonathan raised his hand and a bolt of lightning struck the zombie teen straight in the chest. The vampire stumbled backwards into one of his peers who pushed him to the floor. Jonathan paid little attention to the suffering teen. He checked himself openly, breathing deeply and flexing his fingers. _

"_You see the news was a message to myself." Jonathan stated. "And I don't care to share it with myself." He looked at the teen crawling on the floor with disgust. "Still too much like a human. And I can't waste time training myself to be who I am."_

_The Queen moved to attack Jonathan but he caught her by the throat. "Please, don't try that again." Jonathan threw her into the far wall. _

_The other vampires, spooked by the sudden display of power, returned to their bat forms and took to the night skies. The Queen looked at Jonathan with fear. "Who are you?"_

"_Your salvation." Jonathan snapped before driving his heel into the sniveling newly-turned Jonathan's back. "Now get out of here before the Source makes his impromptu visit."_

_The Queen hesitated for a moment, looking at the wriggling teen before turning into a bat and taking off like the rest of her clan._

"_Now, it's just you and me, Jonny boy." Jonathan said, pulling the vampire to his feet. "And believe me, this won't last long!"_

Anakin woke with a start, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. He sat up and concentrated on leveling out his breathing, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and standing up. He glanced around his newly conjured room before heading to the door. He found his way up the basement stairs and into the kitchen and was surprised to see Wyatt sitting at the island eating a large bowl of ice-cream.

"Couldn't you have at least put on a shirt?" Wyatt complained, shielding his view.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Get over it, Wy."

"Look," Wyatt stated, handing Anakin a spoon he conjured with a casual flick of his wrist. "This isn't something personal or anything, but it's disturbing to see my brother lacking an arm and almost completely nude covered in sweat – ok?"

"Get you mind out of the gutter," Anakin snapped playfully. He waved his hand and a white undershirt orbed itself onto his body. "Better?'

"Not much, but it'll do." Wyatt muttered with a smirk. "So what? Lucien turn you down?"

Anakin shook his head and gagged. "It's bad enough you talk to me about your sex life; let's leave mine out of it, ok?"

Wyatt shrugged, "Suit your self. But I could –"

"Wyatt!" Anakin glared at his older brother. "I mean it."

Wyatt laughed and got up. He walked over to the freezer. "So what are you doing up at three in the morning?"

"I could ask you the same question," Anakin smart arsed-like retorted.

Wyatt gestured to his clubbing outfit. "Isn't this enough for you?"

"O.K." Anakin conceded. "But I would think you'd be doing a whole lot less clubbing since the Amber incident."

Wyatt shook his head. "When I met her, she was a perfectly normal teenager, alright? The demon thing came later."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Anakin muttered.

Wyatt returned to his seat with a tub of strawberry ice-cream. "If you must know, I was celebrating Drake's birthday."

"Drake?" Anakin frowned for a second. "Oh, the half manticore guy. Yeah, he's alright. Got me out of a few tight spots back in the day."

It was Wyatt's turn to roll his eyes. "Don't tell me he's gay, too."

"No!" Anakin stated. "He's just a rather good demonic impersonator."

"You used my best friend to go exploring the Underworld with?" Wyatt questioned a little too loudly.

"Shush!" Anakin hissed. "And it's not like you don't do the same thing, Wyatt."

Wyatt waved his hand. "Fine, you win. But you still have to tell me why you're up."

Anakin glanced down at his bowl. "I had another dream."

Wyatt whispered. "Oh."

"They're getting more vivid." Anakin stated softly. "I killed a helpless vampire this time."

"Vampires are hardly helpless, Annie." Wyatt said comfortingly. "I know the dreams are disturbing and all but at least you're not killing innocents."

Anakin looked up, alarmed. "Don't jinx it!! Damn it, Wy."

Wyatt raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry, I'm just saying."

"Yeah, and mark my words: tomorrow night it'll be some blonde chick," Anakin muttered. "It's not like I don't have enough on my mind without having freaking murderous dreams as well."

"Have you spoken to Mom about them?" Wyatt inquired. "Aunt Phoebe suffered something similar once."

"Yeah," Anakin stated. "She was connected to a succubus. I somehow doubt that this is the same thing."

"What?" Wyatt questioned innocently. "They could have decided that there aren't any decent mortal human males out there and moved onto demons and vampires."

Anakin laughed once. "Yeah, somehow I doubt that, Wy."

"Fine, be a spoilsport, but I must warn you that is usually Chris's job," Wyatt stated. "And he is rather fond of it."

Anakin was about to answer when suddenly his ears started to pound and ring, drowning out all other thought and sound.

Anakin orbed into Phoebe's New York condo, only to be thrown into the wall by a low-powered energy ball. He flexed his fingers and the responsible demon burst into flames. Its ashes barely settled when another demon shimmered in. The demon reached out and grabbed Anakin by the throat and its hand turned a blistering red.

"No you don't!" shouted Phoebe, springing out from behind an overturned couch. She threw an emerald green potion which exploded against the demon's chest. The demon screamed like a dying cat before turning into ashes.

Anakin rubbed his throat gingerly. "Thanks, Aunt Phoebe."

Phoebe pulled Anakin behind the couch as another two demons shimmered in. "I thought you said we had a few months before they tried this again."

Anakin shrugged. "Sorry, I guess the timeline changed."

"Well," Phoebe peeked out behind from behind the couch. The demons threw energy balls and she shrieked, ducking back down. "What's your plan?"

Anakin shrugged. "Wyatt was going to wake up my mom and dad and then join us. But until then – vanquish as fast as you can."

"Easy for you to say." Phoebe whispered.

Anakin smiled sheepishly. "Right, no active powers – umm, o.k. Where's everyone else?"

"Coop took them to Magic School."

Anakin blasted the demon that was unfortunate enough to stick its head around the corner of the couch. "Alright," he waved his hand. "Magic School."

"Nooooo…!" Phoebe's voice grew distant as the blue orbs she turned into disappeared from view.

"Not losing you again, Phoebs." Anakin muttered. He jumped up from behind the couch. "Who wants a piece of this?" He shouted as he vanquished another demon with a simple gesture.

The horde of demons charged forward like an unthinking, angry mob. Anakin brought up his light blue shield and started blasting demons left, right, and center. But even with his shield he was greatly outnumbered and he was losing ground fast. Another fireball hit the shield and this time, it did not dissipate. Anakin fell to the floor to dodge the attack and his shield collapsed.

"Crap!" Anakin muttered a few more curse words before jumping to his feet.

A fireball left a small crater in the hardwood floor where the teen had been laying moments earlier. Anakin whipped his hand in front of his chest and half a dozen demons were thrown through the adjacent wall into the hallway. But for the display of power, Anakin paid dearly, getting hit by a fireball in his shoulder.

"Freaking hell!" Anakin screamed, vanquishing a couple more demons with an energy wave. "Don't you fools ever give up?'

It was then that Wyatt orbed in followed by a furious-looking Piper. "Where's everyone else?"

Anakin blasted another demon, although this time it only took out its arms. "Magic School," he hissed in pain.

"And why are you still here?" Piper inquired, vanquishing another demon with little more than a glance.

"Maybe because I knew you were coming?" Anakin stated. "Now's really not the time to argue, Mom."

Wyatt brought up his shield. "They blasted through your shield already? That couldn't have been more than what, ten minutes?"

Anakin nodded. "Less talk, more action!"

"No." Piper commanded. "Let's orb out of here."

"Can't." Both brothers stated immediately. Anakin finished with a short explanation. "They have wards up."

"Oh," Piper said, as fear flitted across her face. "To Magic School it is, then."

Wyatt nodded. "Where does the door show up here?"

"In the linen closet," Piper answered quickly turning to lead the way.

The demons did their best to keep the three Halliwells away from their only escape, though slowly but surely, they made progress.

"Any idea why these guys aren't the same things that attacked in the future?" Wyatt questioned conversationally. He always took attacks in stride as if they were nothing more than doing the laundry.

"Probably for the same reason they attacked like a month early." Anakin yelled over the screams of a dying harpy.

Wyatt nodded, unconvinced. "Are you sure it's nothing to do with – umm, I don't know – your dreams?"

Anakin threw Wyatt a dirty look. As Piper asked, breathing heavily, "What dreams?"

"They're nothing, Mom." Anakin said, catching the athame that would have otherwise driven itself into the back of Wyatt's head. "Just nightmares."

"Oh, they're more than that," Wyatt stated. "They're—" but he got cut off by a sudden burst of anger from Anakin.

"YOU!" Anakin screamed.

Jonathan snapped the neck of a demon in his way and smiled. "Glad to see you still recognize me after all this time."

Piper spotted the demon and gasped in shock. "Didn't we vanquish you?"

Jonathan rubbed his neck. "You thought you did." He faced Anakin. "I must say, you're much more of a pain in the neck than I ever imagined a witch could be."

Anakin growled. "I'll make sure you stay dead this time."

"Oh?" Jonathan taunted. "Exactly how do you think you can do that? You chopped my head off and that didn't do the trick. Got anything else up your otherwise useless sleeve?"

Anakin charged forward but Wyatt caught him. "Let me go, Wyatt!"

"No," Wyatt stated, staring at Jonathan. "We've got to get back to Magic School. Regroup."

"Magic School?" Jonathan said with an impressed look. "Never thought I'd see the great Wyatt Halliwell retreat."

Wyatt smirked at Jonathan. "Guess Anakin's not the only one you underestimated." As he said that he pushed a still struggling Anakin through the portal. "Give this whole thing up. You're not getting hold of him again." Wyatt stepped through the portal alongside his mother.

Jonathan smiled. "You've got no idea who you're dealing with, Wyatt Halliwell." The golden-eyed vampire turned around to face the swarm of demons. "Leave! Now!" The demons trembled in fear as they disappeared. "Weaken your ranks some more, Father. I've only just begun." Jonathan looked around the empty apartment before flaming out.


	10. We Are

We Are

_Jonathan expected to have to deal with an irate Billie after he got rid of Anakin, not before. She was not on his hit list, or at least not until he needed her to be on it, which he had believed would only occur after he took the throne. His targets before the big day were purely for the accumulation of power and prestige. The fun of terror and torture could follow later._

_He was beginning to search for meaning and patterns in the events around him. The path to the Underworld's throne was taking longer than he thought it would. He saw just how desperate he was becoming and it only fueled his determination. He was willing to try whatever was placed in his path in order stay on his foreseen, his planned path. He knew the steps to gaining the throne; it was just that other obstacles kept on popping up._

_Tonight's obstacle was a blonde-haired, telekinetic witch by the name of Billie. The witch was challenging him, daring him to follow her into the ancient series of mine shafts and bunkers from the 1800s that ran deep under the isolated countryside. Jonathan chuckled idly to himself. The very idea that she believed she was strong enough to vanquish him was absurd; that she could take someone who had complete control over not only the elements, but virtually every magical power._

_There was no denying that she _had been_ an excellent witch, vanquishing a number of promising demons who could have easily claimed the mantle of the Source in their heyday. Her training days under the Charmed Ones had endowed her with the skill necessary to stand up to most upper level demons. But her telekinetic skills were childish compared to his, and that was, notwithstanding, the fact that her own personal heyday had long since passed._

_Nonetheless she had made herself an obstruction between himself and the last few remaining members of his "hit list", including her godson, Anakin. Once Jonathan finished her off, it would be easier to get close enough to the precious golden child of the Halliwell clan. And without Anakin Pearson Halliwell as their anchor, the entire Halliwell clan would come crumbling down before his very eyes, assuring his reign would forever go unquestioned._

_Basking in his vision of the inevitable kill, Jonathan began to mentally cycle through his inventory of poisons, weapons, and other objects that could lead to the death of his foes. This was going to be a silent killing if he had anything to say about it, no great amount of magic would be used. He could not afford for the Source to discover his existence, not until he was ready. He smiled as the emotions of the hunt flooded through his mind. Taking in an exhilarating deep breath of the cold country air he decided to oblige Billie and entered the shadow-filled cavern. _

_Jonathan loaded four poisoned darts into a small manual blowgun, a weapon he had removed from the still warm hands of one of the numerous vampire hunters that had been harassing him on a nightly basis. He pocketed the blowgun, along with the remaining darts, each covered to avoid any fatal accidents. He was a vampire, but this toxin was still strong enough to weaken him severely._

_A sudden and foreign question on how he could be so calm when thinking about murder shot through his brain. He quickly dismissed the question; it was, after all, a question a foolish _mortal_ would ask, and certainly not one the future Source should entertain himself with. He approached a junction in the tunnel's main corridor with slow care. While he could sense the layout through his connection to the elements and his highly sensitive vampiric senses, Billie had all but vanished from his mental radar once again. _

_As the light from the rising sun dwindled into nothingness, Jonathan paused and listened. The faint sounds of stone being displaced reached his ears causing a small grin to creep across his well-tanned face._

"_Ok," he said. "I know you can hear me, Billie." She _could_ hear him, all right: he could hear water dripping slowly somewhere ahead of him. Sound was magnified by the acoustics of the place. "This is my offer. Give up now, and I will not take your life. You could be my queen. Imagine it, Billie, all the power in the world: the ability to bring your _sister_ back to life. Come on: how can your refuse that?"_

_His voice echoed. There was no response, not that he was expecting any. Pity, he thought, but it mattered little. The outcome was still the same. At least this way he got to have a little fun first. After a few more moments of waiting in deathly silence he started once more to make his way steadily further into the underground network of collapsing passageways. With the light from outside no longer available he conjured up a small emerald green fireball in his right palm. He summoned his prized short sword into the other with a flick of his wrist. _

_A couple of winding turns later he paused once again. Everything had suddenly grown all too silent and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. A shiver went up his spine and … __**Crack**_

_His right knee exploded with crippling pain as Billie came flying out of nowhere, telekinetically-assisted. She had caught his leg on the joint with her knee high, black leather boots, ripping tendons. As he lost his footing in the narrow passage, hissing in annoyance, he found himself wedged for a second against the slick, wet, jagged rocks. He groped for support and in the process, ended up cutting open his palm. Gaining some form of balance Jonathan summoned his dropped sword and lashed out wildly. Billie dropped to the muddy floor to dodge the weapon. She spun around and landed another kick firmly in Jonathan's face before sprinting away into the darkness._

_Jonathan swore, spitting out bits of teeth and blood. Catching his breath he rolled onto his stomach. With a powerful shove he was back on his feet. Growling viciously, he healed the superficial wounds. Shoving the needle sharp pain out of his mind, he charged after the now dead witch. The pain from his still torn tendons was almost unbearable but he allowed himself to get lost in the chase. Pretty soon, the pain dwindled into a dull throb._

_Now that she had shown herself, he knew what she was planning to do. It would not take much to kill her now; all he needed was to catch up to her, to surprise her with his knowledge of her last-ditch effort to vanquish him. She wanted him confined, pinned down, and penned. And if that was what she wanted, that was exactly what she would get._

_He closed his eyes and pictured her in his mind:_

_Billie found the perfect trap at the end of one of the culverts. She could now hear his running footsteps. He had given up on being a silent stalker. Judging by the volume of the footsteps, she guessed she had a good few minutes on him. Jonathan actually laughed out loud at that thought. If he wanted to, he could end it all in a split second; if it came down to it, he could command the very stone she stood on to swallow her and slowly crush her to death. But after that last sneak attack, the pain she had brought to him, he wanted the satisfaction of seeing her face when he finally squeezed the last breath out of her delicate mortal body. He continued to run as he followed Billie's movement in his mind's eye._

_From here, the disintegrating ceiling became lower and the walls grew closer together. Even Billie had to run at a crouch and was constantly getting cut by the poking edges of black rock. The tunnels were in poor condition, and the wooden support beams were staring to sag and rot in several places. _

_Something, Jonathan was positive, the blonde witch would try to use in her final stand against him. The vampire stretched out his consciousness and invaded the pretty female's mind once again. _

_Billie had spotted a rusted metal sheet just wide and long enough to cover a good section of the floor. She laid it carefully across the tunnel floor, propped on stones so he would tread on it and give her a ringing warning when he reached that point. _

_A typical and boring trick, Jonathan shook his head in faked disappointment as he made a mental note of it. He sped up in order to close the gap; this game of cat and mouse was getting old._

_Just as he had guessed, he felt a sudden surge of telekinetic energy directed at the crumbling mind walls and the wooden beams in front of and behind the metal plate. He was sure that such a strain would weaken her considerably, but she would need much more strength for her trap to work and for it to actually kill him. And Billie was anything but stupid; he knew that from personal experience._

_She could hear him breathing now, and the irregular crackle, crackle, crackle of his conjured fireball as it flickered in the wind rushing over it._

_Jonathan smiled as he brought himself back fully to his own surroundings. His prey was now effectively trapped. Her only escape was either through him or up one of the small and precarious openings caused by cave-ins to the outside world. But Jonathan was not worried about her using one of those as her escape route. When she had said she was only leaving here over his dead body, she had meant it and that suited Jonathan just fine._

_He felt the beginning of a compassionate _human_ thought about Billie's fiancé and about Billie herself, but killed it stone-dead. It would weaken him and he was not prepared to lose his edge. Besides: what did he truly care about the foolish mortal? He was after power, pure and simple: whoever got in his way had to be destroyed. Jonathan's boots crunched over debris. He was getting impatient; the euphoria of the chase was waning. She was in his way, holding him up when he wanted to get on with his quest. _

_**Crunch **__… __**crunch **__… __**crunch **__… __**clang**_

_The rumbling began. He had been so caught up in his musings that he had completely forgotten about the stupid metal plate. Cursing himself fervently, he fought against Billie's struggle to bring down the roof. Despite his efforts, Billie managed to bring down both sections of the tunnel. With a massive exertion of telekinesis that made him breathless, Jonathan managed to build a small bubble that kept him from being further injured. Even in the damp conditions, clouds of fine debris filled the air and made him choke. It was a few seconds before he was able to stifle the urge to cough._

_Trapped, Jonathan began to think quickly of a way out of the situation. He peered out from the fist-sized crack in front of his right eye to see if perhaps Billie had been knocked out by her own trap. He did not expect this to be the case but nonetheless, he breathlessly scanned the small visible part of the tunnel. He spotted Billie through the slowly lifting cloud of dust, waiting with a hand over her mouth and nose. In her other hand she held a modified gun already cocked with a small metal stake. _

_Jonathan moved slowly; he carefully shifted the rubble in such a way that he was able to wiggle his right arm free from all the debris. If she fell for it, this would be the last thing she would ever do. Through the fist-sized gap, their eyes met and Jonathan immediately knew that such a childish trick would do little to help his cause. He nevertheless reached out to her, his fingers splayed, bloody and shaking. _

_Billie simply leveled the loaded gun at the opening one-handed, forefinger resting on the trigger. She pulled out another longer metal spear in case a coup de grâce was called for._

"_I can offer you your sister's life back." Jonathan whispered unctuously._

"_She's in a better place." Billie wryly said and squeezed the trigger._

_Jonathan had always heard the way adrenaline affected the human body. In fact, he had personally felt the effect it had on his victims with a number of bruised eyes in his early days as a vampire. For a vampire with as much power as Jonathan possessed, it usually meant the death of his attacker. He deflected the bullet with a blink of his eye and with one last surge of telekinetic energy he sent the massive load of debris erupting off his crushed and bleeding body. The large pieces of stone and splintered wood hammered the already crumbling walls. The result was a rain of fragments that effectively knocked Billie flat on her back with such force it would have knocked out the average person. But she simply made a furious animalistic noise and flailed for a moment as she tried to right herself against the still pummeling wreckage._

_The effort to free himself froze Jonathan for a pivotal second. He was exhausted but he knew if he didn't get up now and fight back, Billie would come in for the kill again and again, until he truly was too worn down and too fatigued to fight her back. With that humbling thought he scrambled to his feet, staggering more than standing, and searched for his best course of action._

_He fumbled for his forgotten sword and summoned it back into his bleeding palm. Billie was already back on her feet, coming at him with the spear and an athame, black-red blood snaking down her forehead from a scalp wound only adding to the deranged glint in her eyes. She leapt at him with the athame held left-handed. The athame found flesh and scraped across the angle of his cheekbone, causing him to pull back in surprise and Billie to catch him under the tip of his chin with the spear._

_She shouldn't have been able to get near him. He had total mastery, and she was just athletic and fast. He pushed back at her with his telekinesis, sending her crashing against a wall. She hit the wall with a loud grunt, but she kept coming at him, not wearing down in tenacity. He, on the other hand, was being driven back, his strength ebbing. He needed to end this fight, and quickly._

_He drew his dart gun, the one loaded with his poisoned darts, and fired one after the other, but Billie scattered all four needles with a telekinetic blast. They fell to the ground, utterly useless. He turned and scrambled up the mound of collapsed stone, using the Force to hurl random objects down at the blonde witch. But Billie was too quick for him and he simply used his makeshift weapons as stepping stones until she finally leapt forward and landed heavily on Jonathan's back._

_They fell and rolled down the hill, all the time punching at each other, trying to inflict as much damage as possible. This was no longer a hunt or even a duel: it was an animalistic struggle for their very lives. She thrust her athame up under his chin and he jerked his head to one side, feeling the tip skate from his jaw to his hairline as it missed his jugular. He couldn't draw the weapons he needed and she was too fast for him to use a fireball. He was losing blood and strength. In desperation he swung his sword in order to fend her off. It was almost useless in such a close-quarters struggle. Billie, manic and panting, flicked the metal spear to counter every hopeless stabbing thrust._

"_Anakin! I'll see you dead first … before … you get … Anakin!"_

_Jonathan was on the edge of a knife between dying and killing. They grappled, magically battled, and all but threw themselves at the other to little avail. Finally, Jonathan caught a small break when he threw Billie back with a well-timed, telekinetically-powered kick to the chest. He continued to try and crush her using his wiles of telekinesis, but somehow the blonde was able to divert the attacks._

"_You can't beat me," he gasped. "It's not meant to be."_

"_Really?" Billie snarled. "I say it is."_

_She launched herself at him – unthinking, a wild woman, hair flying – and he reacted with a telekinetic shove sending her into a nearby wooden pillion. But the battering he'd taken and the ferocity of her relentless attack had blinded him to the danger from another quarter. As he lurched backward to avoid her, his legs went out from under him and he stumbled into a gaping crack opened up by the subsidence. He fell, twisting his ankle almost to the breaking point. Red hot pain seared from ankle to knee. His sword went flying into the shadows. _

_The massive amount of blinding pain could be ignored. However, he was still too slow on his feet to take advantage of Billie's own daze. The powerful witch came back at him with the spear, plunging it into the soft tissue just under the end of his collarbone. He screamed, breaking Billie's nose with a single punch. Billie stumbled backwards and Jonathan summoned his weapon back to his hand, eager to bloody it. But before he could even feel the cold metal in his palm, Billie crashed into him, knocking him flat again. The sword went sliding back into the darkness but it mattered little to Jonathan, who was effectively pinned to the ground and helpless. _

_Billie pulled a shiny fresh athame from her belt and aimed it at Jonathan's face. Jonathan broke one of his arms free from his side and caught Billie's arm in his vice-like grip. He twisted his hand sharply and was greeted with the satisfying sound of bones snapping._

_Billie screamed, but brought the spear to bear. Jonathan fumbled in his belt for one of his spare poison darts. Billie arched her back and held her arms high to bring the shiny metallic spear down into his chest. Jonathan, thinking quickly, stared into Billie's eyes and instantly created the illusion of Anakin's face to replace his own. The illusion caused Billie's hand to halt. That was all the edge Jonathan needed to plunge the freed dart, safety cap and all, deep into Billie's thigh. Billie gasped and looked down at her leg in shock. She reached down to remove the dart but suddenly her body became limp. She collapsed on top of Jonathan, staring wildly into his triumphant eyes._

_The toxin included a paralytic that rendered her immobile as it worked its deadly magic. Jonathan rolled her off him and watched as the capillaries in her eyes began to burst. Soon her whole body was a dark purple and she went into shock. Her red eyes rolled back into her head and at last she stopped breathing_.

Anakin woke up screaming bloody murder. He was shaking horribly and drenched with sweat. His white undershirt clung to his soaking wet torso as he sat up. He was barely able to get his head over the edge of his bed before he threw up. He gagged once again and dragged his feet out from under the light cotton sheets, sitting up carefully to place his feet on either side of the mess and bent over so his head hung between his legs. Anakin gagged again, giant sweat drops joining the mixture of vomit and spit on the wooden floor of his freshly conjured room at the Manor.

"Annie?" Lucien inquired softly at the door. "Annie, you alright?"

Anakin wiped his mouth on the back of his arm and looked up. "Come in," he hoarsely managed to say.

Lucien opened the door and gasped at the sight before him. He rushed over to Anakin, though was careful to avoid the puddle next to the bed. The curly brown-haired elemental wrapped his strong arm around Anakin. Lucien carefully helped the blond witch to stand, his legs as solid as jelly. They started toward the door.

"The room," Anakin muttered breathlessly.

Lucien nodded and turned around quickly, careful to not jerk Anakin and put an end to the blond's tentative balance. He closed his eyes and chanted from memory. "Let the object of objection become but a dream as I cause the seen to be unseen." There was a wash of pale blue and the room was sparkling clean once again.

Anakin gave his silent approval. The act of nodding overbalanced him and Lucien was forced to catch the blue-eyed witch. Staggering slightly under the larger boy's deadweight, Lucien slowly got Anakin back onto his own two feet. Together, Lucien supporting Anakin with an arm wrapped around the teen's back, the two witches hobbled their way up the basement stairs. They made it halfway through the kitchen when Anakin covered his mouth and flung himself to the sink. This wave of nausea sapped Anakin of his remaining strength and the blond sunk to the floor after the last dry heave.

After a good minute of silent sobbing, Anakin spoke up. "She's dead … I killed her … she's dead!"

Lucien knelt down beside Anakin with a fresh wet cloth, gently wiping the sweat off Anakin's forehead. "Who's dead, Annie?" He softly prodded, pausing in the act of cleaning Anakin's lips from leftover bile so that Anakin could answer the question.

"Billie!" Anakin muttered not wanting to meet Lucien's gaze. "And I did it. I _killed_ her!"

Lucien shook his head. The wet cloth now lay forgotten on the kitchen floor next to his knees. "That's impossible, Annie. You were in your bed."

"But I did it!" Anakin shut his mouth as he gagged once again, but now he simply no longer had the energy to even force anything left in his stomach up his throat. "I stood over her, and watched her die."

Lucien pulled Anakin into a tight hug. "Whatever happened – whatever you saw, Annie: it wasn't you. You did not kill Billie. That's just not who you are. It's not the person I love."

"But it's the person I'm to become," Anakin stated a little harshly. "That is what the prophecy said. Why couldn't I be starting now?"

Lucien hugged Anakin tighter, resting his chin softly on top of Anakin's head. When he spoke it was in a soft, loving whisper. "Because I _know_ you, Annie. And prophecy or not – you wouldn't kill Billie." Anakin made a noise that clearly said he did not believe it was true. "Fine," Lucien racked his brain. "It's not physically possible for you to have been the one to have killed Billie. I got to your room seconds after you screamed and I didn't see any signs of you orbing in. And I certainly did not see Billie lying on the floor of your bedroom."

Anakin gulped and sobbed, returning Lucien's hug. "But she's dead, Lucien, someone killed her." He paused and became distant. "Someone needs to go get her body. Someone has to know."

As if on cue, a light turned on in the room behind the kitchen doors and Piper in her lilac nightgown walked through the kitchen doors. She was quickly followed by Leo, Phoebe, and Coop, all of whom seemed to be searching for an attacker.

Piper turned on the kitchen light. "Anakin!" She exclaimed. "What happened? Where's the demon?" She surveyed the mess of her kitchen sink and guessed there was no demon. "What's wrong, sweetie?" She asked in an affectionate and worried tone.

Anakin looked up at the adults and just broke down into silent sobs. Lucien carefully extracted himself from Anakin's grip. He raised himself off the floor and looked Piper directly in the eyes.

"Anakin saw Billie get killed." He explained in a soft voice.

"What!" shouted Phoebe. "Billie! When? Where?" Her voice broke and was filled with dread.

Piper, however, was much more concerned with her youngest son. She rushed over to Anakin and enveloped him in a hug. "Oh, sweetie!" She stroked his hair comfortingly.

Anakin numbly accepted his mother's hug as they both stood up. Lucien gently took hold of Anakin's hand and squeezed it softly. They moved into the dining room and Anakin slumped into a seat. In a dry, hollow voice, Anakin began to retell the nightmare that he had so vividly and so recently lived out.

"…We need to find her – her – her…" He finished in a defeated whisper, trembling, and deathly pale.

Piper looked up at Leo and Coop. They both gave her quizzical looks. She silently gave them her world renowned hurry-up-and-get-going look.

Coop, still staring at Piper in surprise started, "Really not my area, Piper." He looked at the rest of the small cluster of family. "I'm a Cupid, remember? I find love guys, not death."

Leo moved up behind Coop and patted him on the shoulder. "We all loved Billie. Surely that's enough?"

Coop, still in shock at the news, shrugged. "I guess…"

"Can't hurt to try," Leo finished. "Can it?"

"No," Piper stated. "Now get!"

Coop closed his eyes and Leo followed suit. Suddenly the kitchen was short two people. Phoebe, who had been the closest to Billie of the three sisters, was crying softly near the spot where moments before her husband had been standing. Piper, judging that Anakin's pain was far more important than comforting her sister, chose to ignore Phoebe and pushed her own pain of losing another member of her family to magic.

"Alright Annie," Piper whispered soothingly. She gently rubbed the blond's back, trying to get him to calm down. "Your Dad and Coop have gone to look for Billie. I think we should get you cleaned up and back into bed, okay?"

Lucien silently agreed, helping Piper lead Anakin toward the bathroom. Once inside, Piper turned on the faucet, wet a cloth, and began to wipe Anakin's face clean. Anakin stood still, with a zombie-like lifelessness; his only movement came when he shut his eyelids when the cloth came too close to his eyes. Lucien gave Anakin's hand a gentle squeeze to which Anakin did not respond. It was only when Piper reached his neck that Anakin gave a violent shudder, causing Lucien and Piper to startle slightly.

"I want out!" he half shouted, half cried. He suddenly started to rip at his undershirt. When it did not come off readily, he began pulling at his hair in frustration and anger.

"Ok, ok," Lucien jumped in, recovering from his shock. He gently got hold of Anakin's hand and softly but firmly brought it down to Anakin's side. The brown-haired male witch whispered comfortingly in Anakin's ear, merely letting his boyfriend know that he was not alone, that he was safe. Anakin finally calmed down enough that Lucien felt it safe to let go of the blond's arm. Anakin pulled at his shirt but with less fervor than when he originally began. Lucien brushed Anakin's hair off his face. "Your mom will help you out of your clothes," he glanced at Piper, "While I go get you a fresh set." Lucien walked toward the door and gave Anakin an encouraging smile before disappearing out the door. Once out of the bathroom, Lucien broke into a sprint not wanting to be away from Anakin longer than he absolutely had to be.

He returned shortly thereafter, carrying a pair of green checkered boxers and a new white undershirt. The bathroom room was now closed and Piper was standing outside, leaning heavily against the wall, and softly crying. He approached the mourning matriarch with caution.

In barely more than a whisper Lucien asked, "Is he ok?"

Piper sniffed and dabbled at her eyes with a scrunched piece of toilet paper. "He's still in shock. But he's a strong kid." Her voice was shaky and Lucien was surprised to see just how puffy and red her eyes were.

"I never met Billie." Lucien revealed sliding down to the floor. His energy brought from his concern for Anakin was ebbing and his own horror at the situation was seeping through his steel barricade he had erected so that he could be strong for Anakin. "But I've never seen him break like that." Lucien gulped down a sob. "It was scary."

"Even when I died?" Piper asked in half-surprise.

Lucien shook his head. "I've never seen him just … break down. When you died," He barely registered the sharpness with which Piper looked up, "he was furious. He wanted nothing more than to go blast apart the Underworld, but Victor talked him out of it. This – this was something else. It was like..." Lucien fell silent, not quite sure how to describe it to Piper.

Piper looked down at Lucien and smiled weakly. "She was a wonderful person." Piper paused as Lucien handed her Anakin's new pajamas; the shower had just stopped. She took a deep breath. "She was Anakin's godmother."

Piper opened the door wide enough to place the clothes on the vanity. Lucien looked at the floor, his head resting between his knees. Now he felt sick. "He never mentioned that."

Piper was partially surprised at that revelation. "Anakin never really got to know Billie." Piper reasoned mostly to herself. "She moved to Virginia when he was four. She tries—tried to make it out here around his or one of the others' birthdays but with her schedule, it was always a battle. Last time she made it here was over a year and a half ago."

"But she was still family," Anakin lightly defended, coming out of the bathroom sans shirt. "She still was fam—" Anakin swallowed loudly.

Piper gave Anakin a hug. "Of course she was. She was and always will be family to all of us." Piper let go of Anakin and helped him into the undershirt.

"Lucien?" Anakin inquired softly. "Can I spend the night with you?" His voice was small, helpless, and it broke Piper's heart.

Lucien nodded. "Of course you can." He took up Anakin's hand.

Anakin gave Lucien's hand a thankful squeeze, only just remembering to clarify it with his mother. "Is that alright Mom?"

Piper bit her lip pensively. "Alright," she consented softly, "but just this once."

"I just don't want to be alone," Anakin muttered, not looking at either of them. "It was horrible," he confessed. "It felt so – real."

Lucien let go of Anakin's hand as Piper bent down to give him a consoling and reassuring hug. Anakin broke out of the hug and gulped down more sobs. He reached out behind him and Lucien took the hand in his own. Anakin walked backwards and leaned into Lucien's comforting embrace. Wordlessly, the two young men turned around and slowly headed back toward the kitchen and their bedroom for the night. Piper silently watched the two eleven-year-olds disappear around the corner before allowing her own overwhelming grief to take her over.

Lucien pulled Anakin closer, tenderly playing with his still damp hair. "It'll be ok, Annie; it'll be ok." He whispered, looking directly into Anakin's sad blue eyes. They lay together in Lucien's bed, his nose barely an inch away from Anakin's.

Anakin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, willing the emptiness to go away. "It was so real, Lucien. I felt it – everything that happened – it was…" Anakin spoke softly and in between suppressed sobs. "Why did I see it, Lucien? What could it possibly help?" He asked helplessly, wanting answers to this new form of torture the universe was using on him.

Lucien remained silent for a long time. Then, in a very cautious voice, "Well I know it's little consolation Annie, but now at least Billie can have a proper funeral."

Anakin stiffened at the word 'funeral.' "Yeah, you're right; that's a crappy reconciliation prize for seeing my _godmother_ being murdered."

"Murdered?" Wyatt inquired, orbing in.

Anakin and Lucien pulled away from each other so quickly that Anakin nearly fell out of the bed. The blond caught himself awkwardly and glared at his intruding older brother.

Wyatt just smiled. "Relax, Anakin, Mom sent me to see if the two of you were sleeping."

Anakin continued to glare at his brother as he struggled to push himself back onto Lucien's bed. "I just saw Billie murdered and you're playing tricks! How freaking thoughtful of you, Wyatt!"

Wyatt's blue eyes widened and sorrow was evident in the teen's ocular orbs. "I'm sorry Annie, alright?" He smiled sheepishly, "Just thought you could use a couple of laughs."

"So bring in the bloody clowns, Wyatt." Anakin snapped.

"No can do," Wyatt kept his tone nonchalant. "I somehow think the dead body upstairs would dampen their mood."

"What!" Lucien shot up and stared at Wyatt. He placed a hand on Anakin's shaking shoulder, trying to be as comforting as he could without causing too much discomfort for Wyatt.

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah, that's why Mom wanted to know if you're still up. Dad and Uncle Coop found Billie's body. Surely you sensed them arrive; it was like an emotional tidal wave."

"Well, excuse me," Anakin hissed, "but I was kind of still reeling from seeing myself kill Billie."

"Wait!" Wyatt raised a blond eyebrow. "Mom never mentioned that little tidbit of information."

Lucien jumped in when Anakin remained silent. "Annie dreamed about someone killing Billie." Lucien brushed past the statement. He turned his brown eyes away from the puzzled Wyatt to the shaking and silent Anakin. "Do you want to go see her, Annie?" he inquired in a whisper.

"No," Anakin shook his head fervently. "It was bad enough to see it happen. I don't need – just don't," he sniffed. "No." Lucien rubbed Anakin's shoulder to show his support.

Wyatt turned to leave, but paused, turning back. "Who did kill Billie?"

Anakin's shoulders moved up and down his head remained slunk in defeat. "The same person I've been seeing in my dreams for the past two months."

"Who is?" Wyatt pressed.

"A powerful demon," Anakin stated hollowly. "Someone who can easily take on a matriarch vampire without flinching: someone who has a thirst for power," he paused and his eyes scrunched closed, trying to remember the demon's emotions. "And … for something else."

Wyatt took a seat next to Anakin. "These dreams are becoming clearer then?"

"Yeah," Anakin stated softly, barely moving his head in a nod. "I think he could sense me there a few times – I think he heard some of my thoughts."

"This is dangerous," Wyatt stated the obvious. "A connection like this – Annie, we have to tell someone about this."

"I already have," Anakin whispered in a hoarse voice. "Mom's never heard of anything like this before."

"But that was before tonight," Wyatt half-questioned. "Mom wouldn't have put two and two together yet. I mean she just lost a sister, daughter, whatever."

"Not helping, Wy." Lucien whispered, wrapping his arm around Anakin's shoulders.

"Right," Wyatt ran a hand through his hair. "My old chem professor was a powerful telepath. He mentioned doing research on Oneiro telepathy. I'll see if I can reach him."

Anakin nodded. "Thanks, Wy."

"Anytime, little bro," Wyatt smiled. After a few moments, he stood up. "Don't worry, Annie. Everything's going to work out. You'll see. We'll find this punk and vanquish his sorry ass." Wyatt orbed out.

"So he really does just jump into action mode," Lucien muttered. "I always thought that was just a personality quirk due to the death of Prue."

Anakin chuckled and smiled thankfully for the small glimmer of humor in Lucien's tone. "No. Wyatt's always been the mother hen. Although tell him that I said that and you'll no longer have that pretty head on top of your shoulders."

Lucien smiled weakly. "But _do _you have any idea who this maniac could be?'

Anakin nodded determinedly. "I have a horrible inkling it has something to do with that freaking Source-wannabe Jonathan."

Lucien let out a fearful sigh. "But if it _is_ him," he paused staring into Anakin's eyes, "you can't go after him, Annie."

Anakin looked away from Lucien. "I'm too much of a Halliwell to just sit back and allow him to get away with this."

"But he'll kill you." Lucien argued. In an almost inaudible pleading whisper he continued, "He nearly did last time. And from what you've told me about your dreams his decapitation has done nothing to weaken him."

Anakin smiled feebly; the smile faltered as he began to speak again. "I don't care, Lucien. This guy is hunting down people left, right, and center. He's going to run out of demons that are in his way and it's only time until he turns his attention on the rest of _my family_!" Anakin looked deep into Lucien's eyes. "I'm not going to allow him to take them away from me again, Lucien. Never…again." Anakin gulped and angrily wiped the tears leaking from his eyes.

Lucien rubbed Anakin's back. "I'm not saying we allow him to get away from this, but you need a plan, Annie. _We_ need a plan."

Anakin sniffled and let out a long, slow sigh. "What if he attacks before _you_ can come up with a plan, Lucien? What if he kills Prue or Mom next? He already chased Phoebe and Coop out of their apartment, Lucien. We don't have time for a _freaking_ _plan_!"

Lucien sighed and wrapped a strong arm around Anakin. He pulled the young blond close, "Anakin, we need to think this through. He's too powerful for you to take on by yourself. Wait until everything has settled down. You are more powerful together: it's your family heritage."

"So is death hand destruction," Anakin snapped. "We need to break the heritage, not build on it." Anakin's anger sapped him of energy and he leaned over, pressing his forehead in between his kneecaps.

Lucien sniffed, still stroking Anakin's back. After a few moments, Anakin calmed down and placed his head on Lucien's shoulder. "I can't sit here and do nothing," he whispered.

"Alright," Lucien kissed Anakin on top of the blond's head, "but if you go after him, I'm coming with you."

"NO!" Anakin yelled, jumping off the bed. "I can't put you danger like that. You're just an elemental. You wouldn't stand two seconds against him."

Lucien smiled. "Touching, Annie; really." He lowered his voice so that when he spoke next it came out as a threat. "But I'll get Wyatt and Chris to back me up on this. You are not going to take this guy down on your own."

Anakin's eyes flashed and Lucien, for a second, thought he had pushed the blond too hard. But suddenly, Anakin's determination dwindled. "But Lucien I have to save them."

"No, Anakin," Lucien exclaimed climbing off his bed. "This can't all be up to you." He took Anakin's chin in his hand and made it so Anakin's eyes met his. "Don't you see? That's exactly what Paisley warned you against. You can't keep distancing yourself from us, Annie. You got your family back: don't waste your time with them trying to be the hero."

Anakin pleaded, "But that's just it, Lucien: I don't have them back. They're all dead. I'm just a ghost walking through the life I never had. And this demon – this blood-sucking beast is trying to take it away from Pearson. I _won't_ let that happen, Lucien."

Lucien nodded and wrapped his arms around Anakin's waist, pulling him closer. "But you're not just another person to them either. You are their brother and son. They love you as dearly as they love Pearson. Do you think your death would have any less impact on them than Chris's or Wyatt's?" Anakin slowly shook his head in the form of an answer. "So why are you so willing to throw your life away? It's certainly not to guarantee a happy future. Because believe me, they won't be happy knowing you had to die in order for them to live a demon free life again. They're your family, Anakin. Deal with it and allow them to help."

"Done with the speech?" Anakin joked.

"Not until it sinks through your thick skull." Lucien stated, letting go of Anakin.

"Fine," Anakin muttered. "I won't go on a hunt for revenge. Not yet, anyways."

Lucien sighed in relief. "Alright, then let's get back to bed and we can deal with everything else in the morning."

Anakin reluctantly agreed. "But what if I have more dreams?"

"Then I'll be right here," Lucien whispered as he pulled Anakin down beside him. "And your family is just upstairs as well. You don't have to go through this alone, Annie. You always say Wyatt is the one with the hero complex: but I have to say, you beat him out a hundred to one."

"Why are we together again?" Anakin inquired.

Lucien laughed softly. "Just go to sleep, Anakin." Lucien turned off the bedside lamp, and the two drifted off into dreamless sleep.

"No matter what happens," Chris whispered. "We can't let Anakin go after this guy."

Lucien nodded. He felt guilty betraying Anakin like this, but he had to make sure that Anakin stayed safe. "I think I got that through to him."

"Then what are you doing calling a meeting behind his back?" Wyatt inquired softly. "If you trust him so much, then what are you so worried about?"

Lucien shrugged. "He's your brother, Wyatt. Do you think he's going to give up as easily as he did last night?"

Prue shook her head. "Anakin's anything but a quitter. Something could set off his anger again. We need a plan."

Lucien hushed Prue quiet. All four teens put on innocent faces as Piper, Phoebe, and Pearson walked through the kitchen doors.

"What are you guys up to?" Piper inquired, giving each of them an x-ray look.

"Nothing," Wyatt said calmly. "Just discussing Chris's history project."

Chris quickly nodded. "Yeah. It's on the evolution of elementals and since we have our very own elemental right in our basement, why waste the opportunity?"

Piper did not look thoroughly convinced. "Alright. But I'm keeping all of you home today." Her three children gave her comically surprised looks. "Yes, Phoebe is also going to bring her girls over, so I need you three to look after Pearson. Your Dad can't stay home but he said he'd be able to come home during lunch."

"Mom?" Chris interrupted his mother. "Why?"

Piper looked at Phoebe quickly. "Your aunts and I have decided to go search for whoever killed Billie." She raised her hand as voiced protests started up. "I need you all to stay here at home and watch out for your cousins. Paige's kids will arrive once they finish collecting all of your homework."

Wyatt stood up. "What makes you think you can even find the demon?"

"Phoebe's going to try and get a premonition," Piper explained softly. She saw the worry on all the kids' faces. "Relax guys. None of us are ready to die just yet. We're going to take every precaution possible. And we will definitely be home for dinner."

Prue walked up to her mom. "Be careful, Mom." She gave Piper a hug and then gave Phoebe the same command and show of affection.

"I really should be coming with you," Wyatt stated as he gave his mom a short hug.

"Absolutely not," Piper muttered as she pulled her eldest back into a hug. "I need you here to protect you siblings and cousins, Wyatt."

Chris was the next to walk up to Piper. "Show them who they're messing with, Mom."

Piper smiled. "That's the plan, kiddo."

Pearson gulped. "But why Mommy? Let someone else go find the demon."

Piper bent down and looked her youngest in the eyes. "Pearson, you just do your schoolwork and I'll be back before you even know it." She smiled comfortingly. "This isn't the first time mommy's gone on a demon hunt." She gave Pearson a tight hug. She let go and held Pearson out at arm's length. "And not a word of this leaks out to Anakin." She looked sternly up at the four older children in the room.

Lucien bit his lip. This was not exactly what he'd wanted to happen. "Good luck." he said finally.

"Well then," Phoebe spoke up, "see you in a jiff." Piper and Phoebe disappeared in similar fashion as Coop did.

"This is so not what needed to happen," Prue muttered, letting out a suppressed sigh. Her shoulders sagged. "We were so worried we completely just got blindsided here."

"No kidding," Chris chipped in. "Now we really do need a brilliant plan."

Wyatt nodded. "But first, I'm going to Magic School."

"What!" all four other occupants exclaimed wildly. "Are you insane?"

Wyatt chuckled. "No, but I do need to talk to my old chem professor. If he has answers about why Anakin is seeing these things it might help us – somehow."

"And this is the best time for that?" Chris questioned, walking up to Wyatt. "We've got a better chance of keeping out of trouble if we stay put."

Wyatt nodded slowly. "I agree with you, Chris, but—"

"No buts, Wyatt!" Chris cut loudly. "Didn't you hear Mom?"

"I choose to not really listen to Mom," Wyatt joked.

"Not the time, Wy," Prue said placing a strong hand on Chris's shoulder. Chris looked ready to punch the blond.

Wyatt smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. Reflex."

Pearson frowned. "What's Anakin seeing?"

"Umm … " the three siblings muttered simultaneously.

Lucien looked Pearson in his eyes. "Anakin's just having nightmares, Pearson. And Wyatt thinks it has something to do with his powers."

"So how's that supposed to help us?" Pearson questioned. "Shouldn't we be looking for a way to vanquish whoever killed Auntie Billie?"

"That's exactly what Chris and I were about to do," Prue jumped in. "We'll see you in a sec, Wyatt?"

Wyatt nodded." I'll be back before Paisley, Patty, and Payton get here." He disappeared in blue orbs.

"Alright," Chris pulled himself out of Prue's grip. "So we've just lost the only person that might be able to stand up to this demon. Got anymore bright ideas there Prue?"

"That's enough," Lucien hissed, stepping in between Prue and Chris. "I think it wouldn't hurt to check the Book's entry on vampires. Why don't you go do that and I'll get Pearson some breakfast?"

Prue started toward the stairs. Chris gave Lucien a short glare and followed his younger sister. Pearson awkwardly stood in the middle of the floor looking up at Lucien.

Lucien cleared his throat. "So, do you already like your eggs scrambled with feta cheese and salsa?"

Pearson's eyes lit up. "Yeah, that exactly how Mom makes them for me." He paused and frowned. "But that's kind of weird that you know that."

Lucien nodded. "You're telling me. I'm looking at my boyfriend three years younger. It's a lot to wrap your brain around."

"At least you don't have to keep seeing yourself minus an arm stalking around the house." Pearson said lightly.

Lucien laughed. "Yeah, I guess that would be disconcerting."

"What does 'disconcerting' mean?" Pearson asked as he climbed up to a stool.

"Umm," Lucien scrunched up his face. "It's hard to explain. I mean, it's exactly what you feel like when you see Anakin…"

Pearson smiled. "You're very expressive."

"Oh?" Lucien raised an eyebrow. "No one's ever told me that before. Thanks, I think."

"Yeah," Pearson's checks reddened. "It's kind of…"

Lucien nodded and turned to the stove. "Have you already taken your pill?"

Pearson face fell slightly but he quickly recovered. "Yeah! Mom gave it to me along with my toothbrush. She still doesn't trust me."

Lucien smiled to himself and nodded. "You can't really blame her, considering what happened with Anakin."

"Whatever," Pearson drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter. "So what happened to your family?"

Lucien nearly dropped the pan. "They're around. In fact, my dad should have just married my step-mom about three weeks ago."

"Oh," Pearson looked down at the counter. "Not to pry or anything, but what happened to your real mom?"

Lucien let out a sigh. "She died."

"Sorry." Pearson stated quickly.

"No," Lucien shot Pearson a smile. "Nothing to be sorry about. She died when I was very young. She had breast cancer."

"Was she the reason you got powers as well?" Pearson asked after a few moments.

"Yeah," Lucien sat down, handing Pearson a plate piled high with scrambled eggs. "She was an elemental, mainly focused on air though. At least that's what my Dad told me."

Pearson took a bite of eggs. "These are great, Lucien."

"Thanks," Lucien stated. "One of the few things I can cook without burning."

"What do you specialize in?" Pearson inquired in between chewing.

"Well, fire has been really the only elemental I've had trouble controlling." Lucien explained. "But it's also the one I've had to use the most. Not much air or water can do against a demon." Lucien smiled.

"Right," Pearson swallowed another mouthful. "Did you have any brothers or sisters?"

Lucien nodded. "I had a step-brother that I didn't like very much."

Pearson frowned. "I would have guessed you had an older brother."

"Well my step-brother was older than me," Lucien said in an attempt to explain. Then he paused. "Why'd you guess that?"

"Just a feeling," Pearson said. "You seem so comfortable around our large family. And you were able to stand up to Chris back there – I don't know. I just pictured you with an older brother."

Lucien smiled. "You're very observant, Pearson."

"That's what my teachers all say." Pearson's chest puffed out in pride.

"And they're absolutely right." Lucien stood up. When Pearson started to climb out of his seat he said, "I'll be right back, Pearson. I'm just going to check on Anakin."

"Well I'll go see if Chris and Prue found anything in the Book." Pearson said and disappeared in blue orbs.

Lucien stared at the place where Pearson had been moments before with a horrible knot in his stomach. He shrugged and started down the basement stairs.

"Why the hell didn't any of you try and stop them?" Anakin half-screamed at the cluster of his siblings and cousins. "They're going to get themselves killed and you all just let them do it!"

Paisley frowned. "They're not helpless, Anakin."

"No, but this guy is far more powerful than anyone they've come up against before." Anakin, exasperated and bogged down with fear, began his pacing once again.

"Well," Wyatt said softly, "I did discover that your connection with this Jonathan, if that's who this demon is, is something completely new."

"Could it be a lingering of a spell?" Lucien questioned. "I mean Jonathan had to have caught a lift with Anakin to this time. It has to be a spell, right?"

Pyrrha nodded. "It's possible. Vampiric magic is not a highly studied area of magic, but they're known for their telepathic abilities. Couple that with Anakin's own telepathy and it could be a backfire of a spell."

"This is no backfire," Anakin stated angrily. "They get stronger every time I have them."

"Yeah," Pyrrha nodded, "if it was a backfire they should be dwindling, not increasing in clarity."

"You're helpful." Anakin snapped.

"Hey!" Penelope jumped to her twin's defense. "Don't talk like that to my sister."

Prue butt in. "Alright guys, we really don't need to be fighting each other at the moment."

Pearson looked down at his watch. "It's six-thirty. They promised they'd be home for dinner."

Prue rubbed Pearson's shoulders. "Don't worry, Pearson. They're probably just running a little bit late."

Patty opened her eyes. "Look, not to freak everyone out, but I can't sense Mom anymore."

"That could just mean they're in the Underworld." Payton looked at her middle sister with worry. "Right?"

Wyatt and Chris both closed their eyes. "We're not picking up Mom either."

"But that's normal," Lucien stated. "I mean, they're going after a high level demon; his lair is certain to be cloaked against sensing and Cupid rings."

"Or it could mean they're captured." Anakin stated harshly. "Why the hell did no one wake me up!"

"Oh, give it a rest," shouted Wyatt. "It's not like you could have stopped Mom. She was on a mission."

Pearson and Henry Jr. were both starting to hyperventilate. Their respective siblings started to try and comfort them.

"What's the chance that this is nothing more than them stepping into a high security lair?" Lucien asked Wyatt.

"With our luck so far?" Wyatt lowered his voice. "Let's just say I'm out of here the second my dad gets back from Magic School."

"There is no way that you can beat him, Wyatt." Lucien kept his voice low. "He's powerful, really powerful. You're going to need your siblings."

"You mean the Power of Three," Chris stated. "But would that even work? I mean, our parents are hopefully still alive."

"And what if it disempowers them?" Wyatt asked. "We can't risk that."

Lucien shrugged. "I'm no expert on this, guys. I'm just saying – there was a reason Jonathan did not turn up in the future until the Power of Three was destroyed."

Anakin joined the little powwow. "What are you guys discussing?"

"Whether or not to try and become the Charmed Ones or not," Wyatt answered nonchalantly.

"Oh," Anakin frowned. "And who gave you that bright idea?"

Chris stared Anakin down. "It's an idea we've all been tossing around since the attack at Prue's birthday."

"And why exactly would that be?" Anakin questioned. "We tried the whole Power of Three thing in the future. It did us a fat load of help."

"But we _are_ stronger together," Chris said emphatically. "There is no denying that."

"Yeah, Annie," Lucien said, "The Source said it himself. He feared the Halliwells banding together. It's why he took them out the way he did."

"While I'm glad to see that you have an insider's guide to the fears of the Underworld," Anakin said sarcastically, "It still doesn't change my mind, Lucien. Being Charmed is only going to add wood to the already blazing beacon we have on our heads."

"So that means it's not going to change anything except give us an extra option when we write vanquishing spells." Wyatt said. "I vote for us trying it."

"I second that," Chris stated slowly. "It's about the only option we've not exhausted already."

"Alright," Prue stated, "only problem is that there are ten of us. Who's going to be part of this new Charmed generation?"

"Well," Paisley spoke up. "You can count me out. I'm quite happy remaining a descendent of a Charmed One."

Her two sisters second her statement.

Pyrrha tapped her finger against her chin. "Our best chance of not stripping our parents of their Charmed status is to use boys. And the prophecy speaks about three sisters being the Charmed Ones so my guess is that it has to be siblings who form the bond."

"But would not also rule out boys being able to be Charmed?" Prue questioned.

"Well I would agree with you, except we know that Wyatt, Chris, and Anakin were Charmed." Pyrrha continued. "I say that they're our best bet of pulling this off."

Anakin looked around at his cousins. "Are you really going to do this? That prophecy also warns that once the persons become Charmed, that demons, warlocks, and other evil beings will start coming after them."

"So like we said," Wyatt uttered. "Nothing is going to really change."

"But which Anakin do we use?" Prue asked.

"Umm," Pyrrha pondered the question. "From a practical standpoint, Anakin would be the better candidate. But from the magical side of things, Pearson is the optimum choice."

"Great!" Wyatt threw his hand up in the air. "So we just do eeny-meeny-miny-moe?"

Leo walked through the attic door. "For what?"

"Dad!" Pearson ran up to Leo. "Mom's not back."

Leo's face paled. "Have Coop or Henry called to say that Phoebe or Paige have turned up?"

"Nope." A couple of voices answered grimly.

Leo ruffled Pearson's hair. "So now that I'm home I guess you all are going to go running after them?"

"Well," Wyatt dragged out the word. "First we were going to try and become the Power of Three."

"Oh," Leo ran a hand through his hair. "And your teachers say you have no imagination."

"Hey!" Wyatt snapped. "That's supposed to be confidential."

"Oh relax, Wy," Paisley said with a smile. "We all already knew."

Wyatt pouted but turned his attention back to his father. "So are you going to give us your blessing or are we going to have to do this behind your back?"

"Sometimes I wish I'd allowed your mother to strip you of your powers," Leo said with a sigh. "You can go … but only if a whitelighter goes with you."

"Dad!" Chris complained. "They'd just slow us down."

"No," Leo said firmly. "I'm not letting you go to the Underworld without help. You guys aren't ready for this."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Like hell we aren't! We've been vanquishing demons since the day we were born, before that for some of us."

"But this will be different," Leo said. "You're not going to be just defending yourselves."

"I've done this before, Dad." Wyatt said, quickly cutting his dad off. "We're not as innocent as you think."

"And you're not as invulnerable as you would have me believe," Leo said softly. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't, Dad," Wyatt said with a smile. "We're Halliwells."

"That's not very comforting," Leo muttered. "Alright, you can go. But, only those of you with active powers and over the age of eleven."

"Thanks," Wyatt said moving over to the Book. "Chris, Pearson, get over here."

"Wait," Leo jumped back in. "You're using your youngest brother as the third member?"

"Well, yeah," Wyatt said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We need siblings and Pyrrha believes brothers would be the least likely to endanger Mom, Phoebe, and Paige."

"But Pearson?" Leo inquired softly. "He's only eight, Wyatt."

"Yes," Wyatt nodded. "But hopefully if Pearson is Charmed, then Anakin could take his place." The blond looked over to Pyrrha for confirmation.

"It's possible," Pyrrha said slowly. "But it's a long shot."

"The entire thing is a long shot," Anakin muttered. "But let's hurry this up."

Wyatt took the Book of Shadows off its pedestal and knelt down, holding it open so that Pearson could see it easily. "Alright Pearson, just repeat after me and Chris, okay?"

Pearson gulped and nodded. "It won't hurt, will it?"

"No," Wyatt said comfortingly. "It won't hurt a bit."

Chris knelt down next to Pearson. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Pearson nodded determinedly.

Wyatt and Chris took a deep breath.

"_Hear now the words of the witches,  
The secrets we hid in the night.  
The oldest of gods are invoked here,  
The great work of magic is sought.  
In this night and in this hour,  
I call upon the ancient powers.  
Bring your power to we brothers three,  
We want the power, give us the power._"

The three brothers chanted with Pearson a word or two behind the elders. The green-covered book glowed slightly as they finished the chant.

"Well?" Paisley asked. "Did it work?"

"Only one way to find out," Wyatt said, flipping through the pages. "Yes, here it is. Anakin, come over here."

Anakin looked down at the spell. "That's certainly not going to work if they're in the Underworld."

"It's better than nothing," Wyatt said harshly. "Ready?" The two brothers silently nodded. "Alright, go. _Power of the witches' rise. Course unseen across the skies. Come to us, we call you near. Come to us and settle here. Blood to blood, I summon thee. Blood to blood, return to me._" Wyatt telekinetically pricked his finger and allowed the blood to flow onto the floor.

There was rushing wind in the form of a very tight tornado of sorts. The shapes of three women formed in the tornado but suddenly there was a distant scream and the tornado vanished.

"Well," Wyatt let out a heavy breath, "at least we know it worked."

"Yeah," Anakin stated. "Now let's go!"

"Go where?" Chris asked angrily. "We can't just go orbing across the Underworld. We need to narrow our search."

"Well," Anakin thought quickly. "If I do have this connection to Jonathan, then why can't I use it to our advantage?"

"And how do we know Mom and our aunts are captured by him?" Chris inquired. "They could have just as easily been caught by the Source or any number of other powerful demons."

Lucien nodded. "Jonathan is trying desperately to stay hidden: you said so yourself, Annie. I doubt he's actually hiding out in the Underworld."

"Which means," Anakin stated quickly, "we've got no freaking leads."

"Not true," said Patty, lifting up her hand to reveal her ring. "I know the last location I sensed my mom at."

"We could track the demons if they shimmered," Chris said. "I've done that before."

Leo stood up. "Alright, I'm going to see to Henry and Pearson." He announced, feeling absolutely helpless and hating it. "You guys be careful."

"It's worth a shot," Chris said once Leo left the room. "I mean, what do we have to lose?"

"Time," Anakin whispered. "If we go on a wild goose chase—"

"It's our best lead," Wyatt said.

Anakin growled and blasted apart an empty vase in frustration. "I hate this democracy thing!"

Lucien smiled. "Only because it's working against you at the moment," he whispered into Anakin's ear.

"_Oooo_ …" the girls taunted.

Lucien abruptly gave Anakin a kiss. "Always did enjoy having an audience."

Anakin laughed. "Enough fun. Let's do this."

With that, the group of nine teens disappeared in blue orbs.


	11. Sooner or Later

Sooner or Later

The Source stood, glaring at small group of sniveling demons that were crawling on their knees—or equivalent bodily parts—begging for mercy. His eyes were completely black at the moment, void of any emotion despite the fury and annoyance building in his chest. His short, gelled blond hair remained hidden underneath the black, heavily-embroidered hood identifying him as the Source of All Evil. The ex-vampire lord raised one of his deathly pale hands and looked down at his yellowing fingernails, a clear indication of utter boredom and contempt. He had put up with these demons squabbling for his pardon for over an hour; the most patience he had shown since becoming the Lord of the Underworld. The constant badgering for forgiveness was certainly getting old. Still examining his fingernails, he began a mental list of the far more important objectives he had to accomplish by the end of the day. And pardoning a bunch of low-level incompetent buffoons was not high on his to-do list.

Suddenly, a glowing angry flame erupted behind the Source's pupils, encasing his eyes in its orange and red hue. The demons continued to implore him for mercy, completely oblivious to his change in mood. He lowered his hand and raised the other allowing a small white-hot flame to form in his horribly scarred palm. One of the demons looked up then, fear showing in his bright sea-green eyes. The Source smiled and threw the fireball at the demons. In an instant, they were all piles of ash quickly blown away by the faint breeze.

The Seer flamed in seconds later with a look of pure contempt besmirching her pretty face. Her malevolent dark brown eyes surveyed the piles of disappearing ash without interest as she walked briskly up the path leading to his throne. Obviously something had annoyed her, as she usually was much more graceful. Now, she was a lioness on the hunt. Her eyes found his and she tilted her head in reverence, but not to the point where she had to break eye contact.

"Milord," she bowed her head and in that instant regained all of her composure. She looked up and without hesitation, directly into the now icy blue eyes of the Source. "You summoned me?"

The blond-haired demon took a step toward the beautiful and scantily-clad clairvoyant demon. He breathed in her seductive aroma and his fangs grazed her taut skin on the side of her exposed neck. The Source ran a sole finger, in a caressing manner, down the Seer's cheek. His eyes turned back into empty, dark voids as he turned around, his robes displacing the last remains of recently vanquished demons. "Have you found the vampire queen who stole my chosen heir?' He hissed in a dead whisper.

The Seer's eyes turned opaque white and her facial expression grew distant, vacant. "My vision of the future remains impeded, my liege. I see death, chaos, and danger, but little more." The Seer paused, shuddering, as if a cold wind suddenly swept through her. "As to your chosen son, his future is no more."

The Source whirled around, his robe swirling through the air in anger, like whiplash. "What!" He screamed, sending the female demon flying across the room with a thick slap across her face. His nails drew blood as the ripped apart her cheek. "What do you mean his future no longer exists?"

The Seer got to her feet unsteadily, rubbing the glowing red handprint on her creamy white skin. She looked down at her hand and swallowed at sight of the glistening crimson staining her fingers.

"Tell me, Seer," The Source commanded. "Or you will join these useless imbeciles that litter my throne room?"

The Seer looked back up and hid her hand behind her back. She straightened her back and did not flinch as the Source moved closer to her. Looking straight ahead she answered in a clear voice. "He was murdered along with the entire vampire clan, milord."

"I know of the clan," the Source muttered, fuming. "I ordered their demise." He snapped his fingers and a heavily-cloaked demon appeared at his feet.

"Milord." The demon knelt in reverence.

"The _child_!" the Source spat. "What did you do with the goddamned child?"

The demon quaked in his boots. His gaze fell back to the floor as he spoke. "The clan was not where you told me, so I searched for them and killed them all, as you commanded. But there was no newly-Turned mortal among those I found."

"And you failed to report this to me, why, _exactly_?" The Source gave the demon a menacing glare causing him to trip over his own feet as he tried to create distance between himself and the fuming Source.

"Mi—" The demon faltered.

"Enough!" The Source yelled so thunderously that the very room shook. The Source flicked a finger and the demon was thrown backwards and laying flat on the ground with his eyes fill of fear looking at the Source. "Find me the child's killer or _pray_ that a witch gets hold of you. Because if you fail me, you _will_ beg for death before I am through with you." Spit flew everywhere as the Source screamed and threatened. Taking a heated breath, he waved his hand in dismissal. The demon shimmered out as quickly as he could, thankful to have escaped with his life. The Source's focus returned to the Seer. "What use are you if you can no longer tell me the information I require, Seer?" He took a menacing step closer. "Why should I not vanquish you?"

The Seer stared into the black holes that were the Source's eyes with firm confidence. "Because while your future is obscured from my visions, the futures of your enemies are not. In the western sector near the Council's old meeting room a group of rebelling warlocks are under attack by none other than the infamous Charmed Ones."

"The Charmed Ones!" The Source smiled, his pearl white fangs in plain view for all the Underworld to see. Muttering to himself he said, "So they have joined my party … excellent."

The Seer nodded. "They will make a perfect sacrifice for the ritual tonight, but you must act quickly, my liege. The spawn of the witches are already worried. You still stand very little chance against the combined strength of the next generation of Halliwell witches."

"You doubt my power?" The Source inquired wrathfully. "I, who destroyed thousands of demons and witches alike in order for this very moment to occur?"

"Forgive me, your evilness," The Seer bowed. "But the power of the Blessed One still outmatches your own inherited magic. This ritual tonight will seal your claim to the Underworld's throne. Until then, your ability to control the Source's powers remains tactless, at best."

The Source growled. He whipped around and walked away from the Seer. As he disappeared into the darkness of his throne room, he said in a commanding tone, "Go inform my loyal supports that I want the scum from the western sector cleaned out."

"Milord?" The Seer stared at the pale-skinned demon in complete confusion.

The Source's eyes flashed and roaring flames appeared in his pupils. "DO IT, SEER!" He took a deep breath. "And make sure that the three visiting witches are allowed to follow my demons back here."

The Seer bowed her head low and flamed out.

Piper swung her head and arm around a corner and flicked her exposed wrist, causing another warlock, this time a female, to clutch her stomach in pain before exploding into tiny black particles.

"Shouldn't we be getting back, Piper?" Paige inquired, following her oldest sister around the corner.

"No!" Piper snapped, blasting apart a rock with nothing more than a glare. "Phoebe had that premonition for a reason. I won't allow that golden-eyed freak to get anywhere near my son."

"That's great, sweetie," Paige said cautiously; she knew she was treading on thin ice. "Piper, we all want to protect Anakin. But Phoebe's premonition happened in the attic, not in this godforsaken dump."

Phoebe came around the corner, grappling with a warlock who towered over her by a couple of feet. "A little help here!" She yelled as she kicked the warlock in the shins, to no effect.

Paige waved her hand and an athame appeared out blue orbs in the warlock's back. The warlock let go of Phoebe in shock or pain, the look was not very discernable. The warlock stumbled further away from Phoebe as it tried to dislodge the athame that appeared to have no more affect than a steel thorn. Piper took aim after waving Phoebe to take a few more steps away from the occupied warlock. She flicked her wrist and the warlock cried out as he burst apart, taking out a good chunk of the nearby cave wall with him. The athame was sent flying and Paige had to orb out and back in order to avoid being impaled.

"This is why I don't like warlocks," Phoebe grumbled, brushing the dust off her jacket. "They're all too sneaky."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Oh stop it, Phoebs. I got him before he was able to rip your head off!"

"That's just great, Piper," Phoebe sniped with a sarcastic tone. "Twenty-five years into this I still have to have my older sister saving me from becoming some guy's next shrunken head."

Piper wryly grinned. "I thought headhunters collected shrunken heads; _that_ was a warlock. You know, after a quarter of a century Phoebs, you should be able to tell the difference by now."

Paige cleared her throat. "Alright, enough jibber jabbering. Let's find this faction's leader before another one of his giant bodyguards sneaks up on us."

The three sisters continued down the hallway and into a room bustling with activity. There were two dozen demons and warlocks flying through the air attacking each other with swords, claws, and teeth. The entire scene was lit up by the massive display of energy balls and fireballs, among other demonic powers. Phoebe levitated out of the way of a ricocheting energy ball, letting out a soft, surprised gasp in the process. Piper froze another attack, this time a jet of flames, while Paige orbed a dozen or so energy balls into their respective senders.

"Who called out the cavalry?" Phoebe questioned as she surveyed the battle, crouched behind the safety of a waist-high boulder. For the most part, the warlocks attacked without discretion, killing their own demons, and occasionally found themselves being vanquished by Piper or Paige. But the demons left a healthy distance between themselves and the Charmed Ones. They attacked in unison and paid the on-looking witches little attention.

Paige vanquished another warlock with the evil being's own short sword. "What's going on? Why aren't the demons attacking us?"

Piper ducked an energy ball and blew up the thrower in one fell swoop, only to be knocked to the group by a telekinesis wielding warlock. "Why are you complaining?" Piper hissed as she vanquished said warlock with a potion.

"Because usually," Paige started. She had to stop as they dove out of the way of the blowback from the explosion of the boulder they had been hiding behind. The three women clustered together behind a large natural column. Paige dusted herself off as she continued. "Because usually, they band together when facing us. Now the demons aren't even acknowledging our existence. Something's fishy about this whole setup."

"There's the whitelighter talking again," Phoebe intoned. "The mother in you is jumping for joy." She continued deductively.

Paige threw Phoebe a scowl. "So not the point, Phoebs."

"Or the time," Piper chimed in, bringing the conversation to an end. "Whatever the demons' plans, we've got to put a stop to them."

"What!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"Piper!" Paige started at the same time as her empathic sister.

"Well, we need the head warlock guy alive," Piper said in a commanding tone. "And those demons aren't going to be as discriminatory as we need them to be."

"Sometimes I wonder why I never invite Grams to dinner," Phoebe muttered. "Then something like this reminds me exactly why."

"And why is it, exactly?" Piper inquired while glancing around the side of the column. "She's complained about it a number of times to me."

"Because I can't deal with two of her," Phoebe groused under her breath. Aloud she said, "Just the fact that I'm so busy all the time."

Piper raised an eyebrow but the sudden appearance of a harpy left no time for her to voice her follow-up comment. Piper flicked her fingers but the harpy remained untouched, merely studying the witches with a primeval smile.

"Ah, Paige?" Piper flexed her wrists again while backing up, guarding her younger sisters. "She's immune to my powers."

Paige called for an athame and threw it at the harpy. The hawkish female demon knocked the ceremonial dagger out of the air but did little else. She continued to grin at them, like she knew something that they did not. It was decidedly unsettling.

"Why isn't she attacking?" Phoebe inquired softly. "Demons usually attack by now."

"Shush." Piper quieted, watching the harpy with rigid caution.

"Power of Three spell?" Phoebe inquired.

"No!" the harpy squawked loudly.

There was a rush of commotion and suddenly there was mob of demons attacking the three sisters. The sisters were overwhelmed by the number of demons and the ferocity of the attack. But as quickly at the attack had begun it ended, leaving all three sisters lying on the floor, bruised and barely conscious.

"I told you I wanted them alive," hissed the Seer, now clothed in black robes similar to the Source's except hers had a beautiful deep red Celtic pattern. She walked slowly toward the three helpless witches, causing the demons to part, leaving her a healthy distance. "Your Source needs them for his plan to succeed. Now … leave me." When no demon moved a muscle she rounded on the nearest one and vanquished her with a fireball.

As the sounds of the demon's screams died out, the sound of shimmering and blinking filled the auditory void. The Seer walked over to Phoebe, who was lying slightly further away from the center of the ring the demons had so recently formed. "It's a pity that my husband needs you alive. Too many times you and your sisters have gotten in the way of other well-planned futures."

Phoebe coughed and crawled to her knees. The Seer sneered and kicked the witch in the stomach, knocking out the air out of Phoebe's lungs and sending the brown-haired witch falling back to the cold dusty floor.

"Now, before I hand you over to my husband," the Seer pulled Phoebe's hair and lifted up the witch's head, reveling in the Charmed One's grimace, "Tell me where your ex-whitelighter hid the original Grimoire?"

"Never." Phoebe winced in pain.

The Seer scowled deeply. "The Source will get the knowledge out of you one way or another," she hissed and slammed Phoebe's head against the floor, knocking her out. The Seer straightened up. "Should I even bother with the two of you?" She asked, not really expecting an answer.

The Seer replaced her hood neatly on her curly blonde hair. Her eyes faded from brown to the opaque white to brown once again. "It seems it is your unlucky day." She waved her hand and shackles bound the sisters' hands behind their respective backs. Another set of rusted shackles bound them together by the ankles. The Seer pulled Piper up to her feet.

"Your sons really are growing into just as much of a pain as you were – once." The blonde demon said with an annoyed smile.

Piper paled and immediately began to fight against her restraints. The Seer laughed cruelly and waved her hand in front of Piper's face. The oldest of the Charmed Ones gave a gasping breath and collapsed to the floor, now bleeding freely from the nose. A snap of the Seer's fingers ended the blood flow but Piper did not reawaken.

"Are you going to join your sisters, Paige?" The Seer questioned through a yawn. "Because I must tell you: this is beginning to bore me."

Paige struggled to her feet. "Boulder!" She shook her head toward the Seer.

The powerful demon caught the boulder in a red beam that projected itself from her pointing finger. The creamy-complexioned demon waved her finger casually and the boulder flew harmlessly into the far wall. Paige called for an athame but the Seer was on her before the weapon materialized. Her eyes grew wide and Paige's veins began to turn a horrible black against her perfect porcelain skin. As the attack continued its progress the blackness disappeared into Paige's chest and the whitelighter-witch started gasping for breath. The Seer let out a disapproving hiss as Paige collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

"Foolish witches," she snapped, flaming out and carrying with her the Charmed Ones, bound and helpless.

"I hate it down here," Penelope muttered. "It's _so_ depressing."

"Well, it's not like demons are known for their good humor," Chris dryly snapped from the front of the small group of teens. They were glancing around a small cavern with cautious eyes.

"Why are we still here?" Prue inquired. "They're obviously not here."

"No," Anakin said, rising up from his meditation posture. "But they did pass through here. And so did someone else." An involuntary shudder overtook his body for a moment.

"Who?" Prue asked, stepping closer to her younger brother.

Anakin avoided her gaze and spoke in little more than a whisper. "A demon, on the same par as the Triad or the Council."

There were a couple of worried gasps, which were silenced by Wyatt.

"They're still alive," Wyatt stated comfortingly. "I only sense the deaths of a large number of warlocks and a couple of demons."

"So my question still hasn't been answered," Prue pushed forward. "Why are we still here?"

"Because I can't sense the trail," Wyatt admitted. "Whoever was here knew how to hide their aura well."

"Or they weren't shimmering," Anakin said. "Flaming is impossible to track unless you are right there when the demon flames in or out."

"Flaming?" Paisley's eyes widened. "Isn't that the way the Source travels?"

"Among other powerful demons," Anakin added quickly.

"But it could be the Source?" Payton shuddered with fear.

"I doubt it," Wyatt said, moving closer to the youngest member of their group and resting a hand on her shoulder. "The Source is too lazy to be bothered to flame out of his lair."

"That's not true," Payton whispered. "He went after Anakin in the future."

"Yeah, true," Anakin bent down to her level and smiled. "But that was only when – when there was no one who could harm him. It's different this time. We're all here still."

"Except Billie." Payton sniffled.

Anakin's expression stiffened for a second. "She's still here … in spirit."

Payton nodded and gave the two boys a weak smile. "I'm fine. It's just scary being down here."

"And hopefully we'll be out of here soon." Prue spoke, eyeing her two brothers expectantly.

"Right," Wyatt straightened out. "This trail is cold but I'm sure there was someone here that could tell us what went down."

"I'm just not so sure they're going to be so willing to play along," Chris joined the conversation. "Demon's aren't about to betray the Source."

"True," Wyatt pondered for a moment, "but I'm sure there are a couple of warlocks that would be willing to undermine demonic rule."

"And exactly how are you planning to lure a warlock out?" Chris questioned. "It's suicide if they show themselves with all of us here."

"Precisely," Wyatt smiled guiltily. "So you all have to go," He paused as he raised his hand, "HOME!" The group turned into blue orbs and disappeared from the cavern. Wyatt took a deep breath. "Alright you cowards, I'm here. Come and get me!"

A warlock suddenly blinked in behind Wyatt and had an athame against the teen's neck in a spilt second. "And how foolish of you to be here."

Wyatt controlled his breathing. "I have a proposition for you. One that I don't think you would want to pass over."

"What _proposition_ could be more helpful to my clan than me gaining all your powers?" The warlock pulled the athame closer to Wyatt's neck so that it indented his skin. The blade slowly sliced into his skin and moved its way closer to his pounding jugular artery.

Still, Wyatt did not lose his cool. "I've got a plan to vanquish the Source. I am sure that more than covers your lust for power."

The warlock licked his lips. "Perhaps, but many say you are far more powerful than the Source. Tell me: what is in it for you?"

"I need information," Wyatt whispered, careful to not gulp. The cut was staring to itch. "My mom and two aunts were attacked in this room. I want to know who took them."

"Ah," the warlock chuckled. "You wish to save the Charmed Ones. This deal is looking less and less appealing to me. Thos bitches killed more than a third of my clan. I'd prefer they stay tied up."

Wyatt's anger boiled over and the warlock found himself crashing into a boulder. "Who took them, you slimy piece of sh—"

"WYATT!" Anakin yelled angrily as he orbed back in along with Chris. "What the hell was that about?"

Wyatt gave Anakin a glare that silenced the teen. "Now tell me, warlock, or I'll vanquish you and find another."

The warlock choked and fought against the telekinetic pressure Wyatt applied to his throat. "Fine," he choked out. Wyatt lowered his hand and the warlock dropped to the floor, coughing violently. The warlock looked up at the three brothers with fear and hatred. "It was the Seer."

"The Seer?" Wyatt gave Anakin a quizzical look. "I thought she vanquished herself."

"Not that Seer," the warlock snarled. "This is the Source's personal plaything. She came and took the bit – I mean witches," he sheepishly corrected himself. Chris and Wyatt lowered their hands very slowly. "She took them away in shackles. Said something about needing them for a ceremony," the warlock finished.

"Thank you," Anakin stated as he threw a fireball into the warlock's chest. After the screaming echoes died out, Anakin continued. "What ceremony?"

"Don't know," Chris said, shrugging. The green-eyed witch looked around the room, searching for answers that were not there, fear evident in his facial expression.

"But it can't be good," Wyatt concluded, looking directly at Anakin. He was worried but he was less willing to show it to his brothers.

Anakin wracked his brain for an answer. "Only thing I can think of is the initiation ceremony. But that requires the original Grimoire and Dad hid that thing away back when Cole was the Source."

"Maybe they found it," Chris suggested, returning his attention to his brothers' conversation.

"Impossible," Anakin shot down. "Dad's no fool."

"But he's been practically a human for over a decade," Wyatt stated. "Any sort of wards he set up could have faltered or just collapsed completely."

Anakin nodded. "I guess – it just doesn't feel right."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Chris asked softly.

"I don't know," Anakin brushed his hair aside. "But it doesn't really matter. If the Seer has Mom and our aunts – we need to hurry. The Source won't be too far behind."

"The Source?" Chris licked his dry lips. "As in the guy who – who got hold of Lucien?"

Anakin nodded, anger burning in his eyes. "That would be my guess."

"So do you know where the guy's throne room is?" Wyatt asked.

"No," Anakin shook his head. The two brothers let out disappointed sighs. "But I do know where the coronation room is."

"Well we'll follow you, then," Wyatt stated.

Anakin orbed away. Wyatt and Chris glanced at each other before disappearing in blue orbs as well. The three brothers reappeared in an empty room with a massive upside down pentagram painted on the floor in blood red. At the five pinnacle of the demonic star were chambers, two of which held a single unconscious girl. Both girls could not be a day older than five. The other three chambers had scorch marks and blood pools but were void of a pile of ash or body to indicate their occupants had been vanquished.

Wyatt started toward one of the cages but Anakin grabbed him by the upper arm.

"It's a trap, Wyatt." Anakin warned.

Wyatt nodded. "Already got that, Annie. But I can't just leave those two girls here."

"Why not?" Anakin inquired, much more coolly than he intended to. He winced at his own tone.

"Anakin," Chris's eyes grew large with surprise. "They're innocents. It's what we do."

"And get ourselves killed?" Anakin inquired. "No, those girls are not the reason we're down here. It's not why we became Charmed."

"Doesn't matter," Wyatt stated, effectively ending the argument. "We're saving them."

He raised his hand up and the gate on one of the cages groaned and buckled outward. But that was as far as it would budge. Wyatt lowered his hand and tried to blast it apart, but a ward absorbed the attack. He conjured up a fireball and threw it as hard as he could, only to dive to the ground moments later in order to avoid the deadly attack when it rebounded off the cage.

"Any help here guys would be great," Wyatt hissed, brushing dust off his chest as he climbed back to his feet.

"A Power of Three spell is the only thing that will get through the wards," Anakin muttered. "It's an alloy metal cage."

Chris frowned. "What alloy?"

"Titanium and witch blood, usually," Anakin muttered, not looking at the cage. "Resistant against any destructive magical powers."

"And how do you know so much about it?" Wyatt questioned, annoyed.

"Because I was placed in one once," Anakin snapped. "Mom barely got me out of it before I drowned."

"And it gave you a bad enough memory that you won't rescue two helpless little girls?" Chris inquired, a bit more softly, than Wyatt had moments earlier.

"The blood used in the cages has to be from powerful witches." Anakin looked up at Wyatt. "They're made from your blood, Wyatt. And the demon that made them was not a very friendly fellow to deal with."

"How'd he get my blood?" Wyatt asked.

Anakin remained silent. Slowly, he finally began looking at the two girls with pity. "All I know is that I vanquished _her_ sorry ass and destroyed the remaining cages in the original timeline. And you never spoke about the incident again."

"Still not explaining the whole aversion-thing here, Annie." Chris pushed.

Anakin sighed. "It's nothing you'd understand."

"What aren't you telling us?' Chris demanded forcefully but still in a concerned manner.

Anakin glanced at the cage and shuddered. "It makes you relive things: things that no one should ever have to relive. Your worst memories, your worst fears, whatever murders the demons near you committed. It strips you of your powers, and rapes your mind."

"Okay," Wyatt stated carefully. "So, even more reason to break these two out of the cages."

"They might not be strong enough," Anakin whispered. "I had my shield to protect me when Mom finally shattered the bars. Those two probably aren't even witches. We break them out with the wrong spell or even with the right spell and we could be sentencing them to death. We'll kill them: their minds are connected to the cage."

"So we need to find the demon that created these things," Wyatt stated. "And get hi—her to break the spell."

"That's not possible," Anakin began, but fell silent. He closed his eyes. "I already vanquished the demon in this timeline."

"What!" Wyatt growled. "Why?"

Anakin's eyes hardened. "To save you, Wyatt; or have you forgotten that she poisoned you?"

Wyatt eyes grew wide in recognition. "Amber?" he whispered and shuddered at the memory. "But…"

"Or whoever possessed Amber," Anakin said apathetically. "But the point is that these are not our innocents. And even if they were, we can't save them." Anakin turned away from the cages. "We need to rescue Mom and our aunts before they become the occupants of the three remaining cages."

"Oh," a disembodied voice suddenly echoed through the room. The brothers searched the room in alarm for the source of the voice. "That is the least of your worries, now."

Jonathan flamed in, dressed in a white robe with the upside down pentagram painted in dripping red blood over his chest. "You see, I can't allow you to take them away from the Source."

Anakin's eyes grew icy cold. "You're not using them to become the Source."

"Oh no," Jonathan shook his head. "I won't need them as sacrifices. You have no need to fear, there."

"Why wouldn't you?" Chris asked, taking Anakin's hand to stop the younger teen from running at the smugly smiling demon.

"Oh," Jonathan twiddled his thumbs, "because I'd prefer to sacrifice others in their stead."

"You won't get us either," Wyatt yelled, taking a step forward so that he partially blocked his two brothers from Jonathan's view.

Jonathan chuckled. "Ever the hero and self pompous git, I see." Jonathan sighed and shook his head in disappointment. "I don't need your blood either, Wyatt."

"Just mine." Anakin quietly stated.

Jonathan nodded. "That would certainly put an end to the Charmed line, but it certainly won't ruin the evening if you somehow manage to escape. Two of my sacrifices are quite – err – applicable to your plans tonight. My other," Jonathan smiled. "Well … let's just say it's too late to save him."

"What do you mean?" Wyatt growled.

"Watch your temper, Wyatt: you might burst a blood vessel or two. Your precious family friend certainly did." Jonathan laughed.

Anakin ripped his hand out of Chris's grip and with all his might blasted Jonathan. Jonathan flew backward, sporting a massive chest wound. He landed on the ground hard, but laughing. The golden-eyed demon straightened his arms out and levitated back into a standing position. Blue orbs circled around the hole in his chest and slowly, it repaired itself.

"Always wondered what whitelighter blood would add to my arsenal," Jonathan said conversationally. "I must say, this was worth that bitter taste and swollen tongue."

"You killed a whitelighter?" Chris asked, fearful.

"Killed?" Jonathan shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. I have yet to taste darklighter blood and as such do not have access to one of their amazing little poisoned arrows. But I did put the twerp through a hell of lot of pain before transporting him to the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean. I wonder if he found his way out of the cave yet."

"You're evil." Wyatt stated in horror; he always had a fear of deep water.

"Well, I wouldn't be doing my job if you said I was a generous, kind, and loving person now, would I?" Jonathan chortled merrily. "You all forget that I am the Source's son, albeit adopted. But I would say three years under his constant care would turn even the most good-hearted person into a mindless killer. Thankfully, I am not a good-hearted person. Could you imagine the chaos the world would be in if I was a mindless killer?"

"You'll die here!" Anakin yelled, shaking Jonathan out of his monologue.

Jonathan shook his head. "I wish that were true for your sake Annie, but I hate to disappoint you. Tonight, I finally claim the Underworld as my own. And to sweeten the deal, I get to get rid of my weak-minded brother." Jonathan snapped his fingers and an unconscious Lucien appeared in one of the cages.

The three brothers gasped. Wyatt and Chris both reached out to stop Anakin from running forward and getting himself killed. All three young men were pale with shock, rage, and fear. Floating in the magical suspicion of the cage, Lucien looked almost angelic. But on closer inspection the signs of a fight were evident. A thin dribble of blood run down the back of his right ear and left eye was swollen.

"Impossible," Anakin shouted tearing his eyes off Lucien. "It's not possible!"

"Which part?" Jonathan teased. "The fact that I have your precious boyfriend in my captivity once again, or that he is my biological brother?"

Anakin stammered. "I-It can't be true."

"Oh, but I'm afraid it is," Jonathan in a Palatine-like tone. "Lucien's precious mother was raped eight years before she had him, violated by a powerful vampire. Who knew that the undead could still produce viable sperm? She kept the child and gave him up for adoption, never knowing the fact that I was half-vampire. She, of course, had my elemental powers bound.

"At the age of sixteen, I figured out why I was so good at sports, why I had superhuman reflexes, why I burnt so easily despite my darker complexion. It took very little for me to discover the rest of the truth about my birth mother. I reserved the binding potion and that attracted the attention of two very powerful demons. A power struggle ensued, unbeknownst to me. The vampire clan that contained my grandmother claimed me as their own and murdered my adoptive parents. Leaving me with no choice but to join their coven.

"Shortly thereafter, my father decided to pay a visit to his old coven. He learned that I was his son and went back to the Source, hoping to buy favor from the demon, by delivering such a powerful specimen. But the Source vanquished my father before he even had a chance to offer me up on a silver platter. The Source then came after my coven and destroyed it, leaving me alive.

"The Source has many secrets he would never want revealed to his loyal followers. One of which is the fact that he was once a very powerful vampire, harkening back to the days of Dracula. When the Source—the one your mother vanquished—rose to power and banished the vampires out of the Underworld, my adoptive father suppressed his vampiric half and allowed his elemental half to take over fully. As a powerful fire-starter, my adoptive father won the favor of the old Source, enough to become a powerful but silent leader in the Underworld.

"He allowed the Underworld to spiral out of control with the vanquishing of the Source. He bided his time until the Charmed Ones went into early retirement. Then he set into action his plans to take over the Underworld and become the Source. One of those plans was to have an heir. And he chose someone in his own image to be that heir. Only, he miscalculated just how powerful I would become.

"And so here we stand, three years later, in the past, in the very room that my father took on the mantle of the Source and made me his sole prince."

"Nice story," Wyatt wryly stated, "but that isn't going to stop us from vanquishing your ass."

Jonathan sighed, "The point of my story is I am a product of unfortunate circumstance, but I made the best of my situation. I have powers that rival those of Cole after he returned from the demonic wasteland."

"Cut the crap," Chris snapped. "No one could become that powerful again."

"Oh, no?" Jonathan questioned. "I have drunk the blood of over a thousand upper level demons. I have turned witches in powerful bloodlines that equal the Warren line." Jonathan then looked at Anakin, "And I have drunk from the veins of the most powerful witch to walk this earth since the time of the Egyptian gods." Anakin involuntarily rubbed the spot on his neck where Jonathan's fangs had pierced his skin. "Didn't you ever wonder why you did not become a vampire after I bit you, Anakin? Have you not ever pondered why I can walk in broad daylight without so much as a pair of sunglasses?"

Anakin glared at Jonathan. "Those are pointless questions."

"Are they?" Jonathan inquired. "And yet, I did voice them."

"Who cares why you can walk in the sunlight?" Anakin growled. "I certainly don't. All I care about is cleaving your head off your body and making sure it stays off."

Jonathan bared his long white fangs with a grin. "Oh, and here I thought we would have a nice little chat. You see I have been pondering for a while why exactly your family's destiny is so intertwined with my own. At first I thought it was because you had the power to bring me to the throne. But after the fiasco with Wyatt and Chris back then – I realized that was not so. Then I questioned if it had something to do with your blood: again I was proven wrong."

Anakin flexed his fingers again and Jonathan stumbled backwards. "Shut up!"

"Am I getting on your nerves?" Jonathan conjured up an emerald green fireball. "Fine. Vanquishing you will put an end to these questions anyhow."

Jonathan tossed the fireball at Anakin with a small wrist snap. Wyatt brought his shield up and the attack dissipated when it struck the blue tinted, translucent dome. Anakin whipped his hand in a circular fashion and Jonathan was lifted up into the air. Anakin waved his hand to the right in a lightning-fast motion. Jonathan flew across the room and crashed through the stone wall. Anakin breathed heavily and bent over.

"Such an amazing display of power!" said the Source as he flamed into the room followed by the Seer and the bodies of the Charmed Ones still shackled together. "Pity it won't be enough." The Seer displayed a black leather book with a smile, more of a leer, on her face. The Source faced the Seer. "Summon the high priest; I wish to get this over with."

"We won't let you!" shouted Chris. He waved his hand in the direction of the Source.

The Source's robe rippled around his body as if a rushing wind was sweeping over the demon. "Is that the best you got?"

The Source raised his hand and bolts of lightning jumped out of his fingers and slammed into Wyatt's shield. Wyatt dropped to his knees, sweating, as he fought to keep the shield up. Anakin and Chris tried to break the Source's concentration but slowly and surely, the shield shrunk. Finally, the Source let up when the three boys barely had more than a foot between themselves and the edge of the shield. He conjured a fireball and tossed it at the shield. Anakin waved dramatically, hoping to telekinetically redirect the fireball away from the shield. The effort proved futile and the attack shattered the shield sending Wyatt flying through the air.

"Such a pity," The Source said with a frosty smile. "I was hoping you would be able to witness my coronation. But I think you will serve me better as sacrifices."

"NO!" yelled Anakin, and threw an energy ball at the Source.

The powerful demon stumbled backwards. Anakin threw another energy ball, about three times as big as the usual softball-sized attack, but the Seer jumped in the way of the attack. The attack hit her in the back and she collapsed to the floor in a heap.

Jonathan reappeared through the hole in the wall. He waved his hand and the Seer suddenly reappeared in another of the unoccupied cages. The Source spun around to confront the newcomer.

"Sorry, father: but I need her dead," Jonathan stated as he threw a fireball at the Source.

The Source ducked the fireball and threw one of his own. Jonathan caught the attack in the palm of his hand and snuffed it out. The vampire charged forward, but the Source kicked the oncoming golden-eyed demon in the stomach, crippling him with pain.

"Fool," the Source hissed as he telekinetically threw Jonathan across the room. When Jonathan did not move, the Source returned his attention to the three witches. "Time for you to die," he growled.

"Like hell it is!" Wyatt bellowed as he charged forward with Excalibur in hand.

The Source's own sword appeared in the demon's deadly grip through flames. The blade was tinted red as it clashed with a loud bang against Excalibur's blue-white edge. Wyatt spun around and swung the historic sword at the Source's unprotected neck. The leader of the Underworld flamed out to avoid the steel blade and appeared back behind Wyatt. The demon thrust his sword forward but Anakin telekinetically pulled Wyatt out of the way.

"You're not getting the chance to kill them again," Anakin hissed.

He raised his hand and an orange glow appeared in front of the blond witch. He shoved his hand out in front of his chest. The glow extended itself to reach both walls as it rushed forward toward the Source. The Source threw out both hands and his eyes turned pitch black as the attack reached him. The Source bent the attack to his own will until it was nothing more than a small orange bead in the palm of his hand. He threw the bead at Anakin who instinctively dove out of the way. When the bead landed where he would have been, it exploded.

The resulting shockwave sent all the occupants of the small room flying in all directions. As the dust settled, it was apparent that the shockwave had damaged the walls of the room: deep cracks spread and snaked across the rocky walls. The cages were bent and a few bars were completely broken off on two of them. Anakin stumbled to his feet and clumsily made his way to Chris. He bent down and felt his neck for a pulse, relieved to find one.

Wyatt then appeared out of the settling dust. "This guy's going to be difficult to beat."

"What if we use the Power of Three spell?" Anakin suggested. "It might weaken him enough for one of us to vanquish him with our powers."

"Worth a shot," Wyatt said as he wiped the blood, trickling down his lip, aside.

Anakin took hold of Chris's limp hand. Wyatt placed a firm hand on Anakin's shoulder. And they waited. Slowly, the last of the dust settled and they noticed that they were alone in the room. Well, that was aside from the occupants in cages and the unconscious Charmed Ones.

"Home." Said both brothers as Wyatt waved his free hand over the distant bodies of their mother and aunts. The Charmed Ones turned into blue orbs and disappeared through the roof of the cavern.

"Where the hell is he?" Anakin wondered aloud.

"Right behind you," hissed the Source.

The Source struck Anakin across the head with a backhanded slap. The blond teen crashed into the adjacent column and slunk to the floor. The Source grabbed Wyatt by the hair and effortlessly tossed the six foot two teen into another column four feet away. He then raised his hand and a massive fireball appeared in his palm. He looked down at the helpless Christopher with emotionless voids. A smiled crept across his face as his threw his inferno downward.

"No…" choked out Wyatt.

Chris's body suddenly disappeared and reappeared in his lap. The Source cursed Heaven and Hell as he stalked his way toward the barely conscious teen.

"This is the end, Wyatt Halliwell," The Source hissed.

"Not quite," Jonathan whispered as he suddenly threw the Source into the ground. "That kid's mine, father."

"I thought I taught you your lesson, foolish boy!" The Source got to his feet in an instant.

"Well," Jonathan shrugged. "You always told me I was a slow learner."

The Source pointed a finger at Jonathan and an energy bolt leapt out of it. Jonathan batted away the deadly attack as if it was just an annoying fruit fly. His eyes blazed a fiery gold and the very foundation of the room shook. The Source stumbled as the rock beneath his feet shuddered violently, and large chunks of roof started to give way and crash to the floor. Jonathan's eyes found the Source's usual icy blue orbs. The Source shrunk away in fear.

"Finally got the picture." Jonathan hissed. "Pity it will be the last thing you do, father." Jonathan eyes glinted with victory. The Source stumbled backwards searching for an exit that was not there. Jonathan waved his hand and the Source was engulfed in flames. The Source screamed as Jonathan cackled vindictively; his eyes glowing with gold and menace.

"I've always wanted to repay you for all the pain you put me through in my life. This is but a taste of it." Jonathan looked at the cages. "Go taste some more of it," he whispered. The flames around the Source completely obscured the pale demon's face and disappeared. The Source reappeared, accompanied by the flames in the last empty cage. Jonathan waved his hand and the flames around the screaming demon died out, but the Source did not stop screaming; although the screams took on more of a desperate tone.

Jonathan then strode up to Wyatt. "Now, you get to witness the rise of a new dynasty."

Wyatt's hands and feet were engulfed in gold blobs that weighed him down and rendered him utterly helpless. Jonathan snapped his fingers and Chris's hands and feet were engulfed with a similar mercury-like substance. Jonathan indicated that Wyatt should follow him. The gold blobs floated upward and pulled Wyatt and Chris along. Jonathan reached Anakin and slapped him hard on the cheek, waking him up with a start.

"No sleeping for you, Annie." Jonathan said cruelly. "I want you to watch Lucien's final act in this life."

Anakin looked at the still unconscious Lucien. "Leave him alone," the blond pleaded. "He's done nothing to you."

"True," Jonathan muttered. "But then again, this will hurt you more than I could ever do so otherwise."

"Why not use me?" Anakin insisted, tears running down his cheeks.

"Because," Jonathan grabbed Anakin around the throat and lifted the teen up so that the tips of his shoes barely grazed the ground, "I need your blood to strengthen me after the ceremony is complete."

"But he's your brother!" Anakin exclaimed in a last-ditch effort.

"And he will serve me well in that capacity," Jonathan stated in a cold tone. "After all: the greatest gesture of love is to lay one's life down for another."

"Bu—" Anakin found himself unable to speak anymore.

Jonathan sneered. "I have a few more necessary details to attend to before I claim my throne. Use that time to say goodbye, Anakin. For I assure you: this time, there will be no going back."

With that, Jonathan flamed out.

Anakin crawled over to Wyatt. "Wy, I need your help," he whispered, barely able to talk because of fear and grief.

Wyatt gulped. "What's your plan, Annie?"

Anakin sniffled loudly. "I … I don't have one."

"Alright," Wyatt did his best to comfort his younger brother, despite not being able to move a muscle. "It'll be alright, Annie."

"I can't let Lucien die, Wy." Anakin said desperately. "Not like this – not because of me."

Wyatt cleared his throat. "This isn't really your fault, Annie. Jonathan seems to have a grudge against Lucien that extends beyond you."

"But he's killing him to hurt me," Anakin argued, losing his mind to grief.

Wyatt gave Anakin a sympathetic look. "Alright, but now's not the time to lose it, Annie."

Anakin took a claming breath and looked at Lucien. "Wyatt, what do I do?"

"Do you remember the spell you used once to switch places with Chris?" Wyatt asked after a few moments of silence.

"No," Anakin said hopelessly.

"Think, Annie," Wyatt guided kindly. "This is our only hope."

Anakin closed his eyes. "My brother over there – let me share – experiences unknown let me see – by switching places with my brother green."

"Alright," Wyatt scrunched his face up in concentration. "We know that other demons are going to have to be here for the ceremony."

"Yeah," Anakin nodded.

"We could switch out Lucien for one of them at the last moment," Wyatt whispered. "You just need to reword the spell so that it targets the right people."

Anakin closed his eyes. "But what if it doesn't work?"

"It has to," Wyatt said. "Because it's the only plan I've got."

Anakin glanced at the cages. "What about the girls?"

Wyatt swallowed hard and closed his eyes in disgust. "We can't risk it, Annie. We save Lucien," he paused as he felt he was going to be sick. "And Lucien alone."

Anakin shut his eyes and silently wept until the sounds of flames informed him that Jonathan had arrived.

"What?" Jonathan came up to Anakin and kicked the teen in the stomach. "No Power of Three to vanquish me?"

Anakin coughed out blood, glaring. "You'll be next, I promise you."

"Next?" Jonathan looked at Anakin quizzically. "And who exactly are you planning on vanquishing before me?"

Anakin glared at Jonathan. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"It won't really matter," Jonathan airily said, walking away to collect the Grimoire from the floor. "After all, you won't be alive for much longer, anyway. Whoever of my subjects that has pissed you off enough to precede me on your hate list won't have to worry about you coming after them."

Anakin just stared down Jonathan. "Don't count your eggs before they hatch."

"Always liked my victims to have some optimism," Jonathan stated, transforming his robes into the plain black robes of the Source, "makes their blood taste that much sweeter."

Soon, a high priest dressed in ornately decorated red and gold robes flamed in, followed by an entourage of upper level demons. The upper level demons gave Anakin, Wyatt, and Chris surprised glances, but the high priest paid them no attention.

"My liege," the high priest bowed low, "I am honored you chose me to perform this sacred ceremony."

Jonathan sneered at the high priest. "Just hurry it up, priest."

"Of course, my liege." The high priest bowed once again. "Are all things in order? The sacrifices I see, and the Grimoire, good, good. But I do not sense the binding potion in you, milord."

"That is because I have not taken it," Jonathan snapped harshly.

"But my liege," the high priest stammered, "there has not been any other magical being in the position of the Source besides a demon. You must bind your vampiric self or the consequences could be dire."

Jonathan's eyes flashed. "I'll risk the goddamn consequences. Any demon foolish enough to challenge me simply because I am half vampire has no place in my new world order."

The high priest bowed low. "As you command."

The high priest stepped around the stone pedestal on which the Grimoire lay. "First, I require your blood."

Jonathan bared his fangs and sunk them deep into his wrist. Blood spilled out of the two puncture wounds and onto the evil Book of Shadows causing the pages to smoke. The wounds sealed themselves as Jonathan smiled at the look of horror on the high priest's face. "I will be the Source eternal. Once the ceremony is over, this book will no longer be needed."

"But no magic can harm this book," the high priest stared at the gaping holes that stood in stark contrast to his last statement. "Not even Charmed magic."

"Well," Jonathan stated impatiently, "then it appears you have chosen your next leader well. Now go on with it."

"Yes, of course." The high priest turned a few pages in the book. "Place your right hand on the book and repeat after me." Jonathan did as he was told. "_Malus into exitus omne._"

Jonathan glanced at Anakin with a smile of clear victory. "_Malus into exitus omne._" Jonathan's entire body glowed a pale blue and his golden eyes became completely black.

"The sacrifices, milord." The high priest prompted.

Jonathan turned to face the cage with one of the girls in it. He raised his hand and it burst open and the girl woke up with apparent fear in her eyes. Anakin looked away as she burst into flames. Jonathan moved on to the Seer and vanquished her with just as much ease. The second innocent started to run before Jonathan killed her with a fireball the size of a jumbo beach ball. The old Source actually got off an attack of his own before Jonathan vanquished him.

"And now for my brother," Jonathan whispered, walking up to the cage containing Lucien. "Awaken, Lucien, and meet your big brother."

Lucien's eyes shot up and he gazed out of the cage, shaking from head to foot. Jonathan leered at the helpless teen. "Don't worry: it'll be painless," he paused to lick his lips, "eventually." Jonathan raised his hand slowly.

"Now, Anakin." Wyatt whispered.

Without a moment's delay, Anakin grabbed Wyatt's forearm tightly. "_Any demon over there, let him share, experiences unknown let him see, by switching places with my boyfriend number three_."

"You've had three boyfriends!" Wyatt exclaimed.

Anakin paid him no mind. The high priest was suddenly engulfed in blue orbs and so was Lucien. Jonathan was too caught up in the torture he was inflicting to notice the switch until it was too late. The high priest caught the fireball that was intended for Lucien and burned to a crisp. Jonathan screamed out in anger as Lucien reappeared next to Anakin.

Anakin gave Lucien and quick look of relief before Lucien grabbed hold of Wyatt and Chris and disappeared. Anakin pulled his hand out at the last second. "Now it's your turn, Jonathan!"

Jonathan laughed. "Sooner or later you will slip up, Anakin. And when you do, I'll be there to take full advantage." The quivering black-eyed Jonathan flamed out.

Anakin flicked his hand in frustration, vanquishing the remaining upper level demons before orbing out as well.


	12. SOS

S.O.S

The Halliwell Manor was actually quiet. The corridors were void of life; everything was safe, calm. Even so, the absolute ghost town-like stillness abruptly ended at the threshold of the kitchen. Piper, having risen with the sun, was already dressed and preparing breakfast: pancakes along with homemade strawberry syrup. Next to the large, hot, syrup-filled pot, sat a massive, brown mug filled to the brim with pitch black coffee. The coffee had obviously only recently been made, as steam was still wafting off the glossy black surface. Piper paused in shuffling pancakes around the hot skillet to pick up the cup and take a relaxing, warming sip of the coffee.

The matriarch of the family enjoyed being in the kitchen; it was a stress-free place. It was where she felt the most at home, even though she excelled in all managerial and domestic areas. The kitchen simply held a soft spot in her heart. It was in this kitchen she and her mom used to bake cookies. It was here that she and her Grams would spend hours together, just talking. It was here she and her sisters had held so many important events in their lives. It was here where the family regrouped after demon attacks and became a normal family again. Smiling at that last thought, "a normal family—ha!", she returned to flipping the golden-brown, perfectly round pancakes.

An exhausted but still cheerful Lucien appeared in the doorway leading down to the basement and the two conjured bedrooms. Lucien looked up from his mindless mumblings and smiled when his eyes found Piper.

"I thought I heard someone else awake," the brown-haired elemental stifled a tell-tale yawn. "Whatcha making?"

Piper returned the previous smile. She reached over to the counter and picked up a plate piled high with the most recently made pancakes. "Does that answer your question?"

Lucien chuckled as he took the plate from Piper. "Thanks, Piper," he stated, almost as an afterthought.

"No problem," Piper responded, returning to her skillet.

Lucien poured some of the simmering syrup over his pancakes and walked over to the island. "How do all your kids ever tear themselves from the kitchen?" he asked as the aromas of the warm strawberries washed over him.

"Oh! You'll be surprised at how many times they don't take advantage of my cooking." Piper said as she deposited some of the fresh pancakes on a plate for herself. She turned the burners off and added some syrup to her pancakes. She sat down opposite Lucien.

"They're spoiled, Piper," Lucien said picking up a slice of the pancake with his fork. "And you'd do well to remind them of it."

"I would if I ever got to see them," Piper stated, taking a cautious bite of her own pancakes. She looked at Lucien and the feeling of unconditional love filled her chest. That feeling she reserved for her own family and few others. But this boy in front of her, who she obviously counted as a member of her family, had lived under her roof for five months, and yet she knew next to nothing about him. Ignoring the insistent tug of guilt she continued to explain her predicament to Lucien. "They're always off doing school work and battling demons and doing sports. I'm surprised they ever find the time to come home and sleep, never mind have a conversation with their own mother."

Lucien smiled, but Piper could see the sadness in his usually warm brown eyes. His eyes were something that she had immediately picked up on. They were identical to Chris Perry's, color aside. Lucien was reserved, quiet, and hardly ever spoke about what he was feeling; but his eyes gave him away. Chris's eyes had also betrayed their owner although the sisters never really took any notice. Determined to not make the same mistakes she did with her ex-whitelighter and future son, she voiced her question in a concerned, motherly voice. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Lucien shook his head and smiled again; still, his eyes remained dim. "It's nothing, really." When Piper opened her mouth to prod Lucien further, he put down his fork and continued with a heavy sigh. "It's just that today's my tenth birthday without my mom to celebrate it with me, and it's the second I'm spending away from my dad." Lucien shrugged. "It's silly…"

Piper shook her head fervidly. "It's never silly to miss your family, Lucien."

"Thanks, Piper," Lucien muttered and returned to staring at his plate.

They sat in silence as they both finished their breakfast. Lucien was careful to not look up and risk meeting Piper's eyes; Piper mulled over the situation. They had been planning a large birthday for Lucien, or at least she had been planning a party with pried help from Anakin. She finished the last morsel on her plate and pushed it aside. "Do you want to go see your dad?"

Lucien shook his head slowly. "It'll create more problems than it will solve." He paused, "Birthdays bring up thought of family and one thing leads to another." Lucien's shoulders rose and fell in a gesture of indecision. Finally, in a clearly forced happy tone, he said, "I'll be fine, Piper."

Piper reached over and pulled Lucien into a hug, which after a moment of stiffening, the young teen accepted willingly. "Well, we're going to have a huge birthday splash tonight. Paige and Phoebe haven't gotten back to me on if they can come, but I know that all of my nieces and my sole nephew are just dying to spend more time with you."

Lucien chuckled and a genuine smile crossed his face. "Thanks, but they really don't have to come. Like I told you last night, I prefer small birthday parties, always have."

"I know, Lucien," Piper said softly, "but you're now part of a much larger family than you grew up with. This isn't an inconvenience for them: they're all coming because they want to wish you a happy birthday and to show their love. It's what families do."

"Really, Piper, sometimes you go over the top with things," Lucien insisted. "Don't drown yourself with the details. A simple supper and a cake bought from Vons is all I could ever want."

"Well," Piper said wryly, patting Lucien on the shoulder. "With a gourmet chef at your disposal, it'd be an insult if I did not whip up something from my cookbook. Anakin mentioned you enjoy my take on Sunday-night chicken."

Lucien nodded, pushing a small crumb across his syrup-soaked plate in an attempt to avoid eye contact. In a small whisper he started, "Yeah, it reminds me of my mom for some reason. Although from what my dad tells me, she never cooked chicken in her life. She was a vegetarian," he added when Piper gave him a startled look.

Piper noted the love she heard in Lucien's voice as she digested the unrequested information. She nodded as plans formed in her mind. "It's settled then. I'll make my apricot chicken with rice and…"

"Carrots and peas," Lucien filled in the blank. "They're my favorite vegetables."

"Alright, peas and carrots it is." Piper got off her seat and grabbed a pad off the fridge. "Add some drinks to that and chips, and ice-cream, everyone likes ice-cream," she muttered to herself as she wrote. "Alright, I'll pick these up along with my other errands today."

Lucien nodded and stood up taking his plate to the sink. "Thanks for the pancakes, Piper."

"You and Pearson are probably going to be the only ones who eat any of them so have more if you want," Piper stated.

"Thanks, but I'm stuffed," Lucien rubbed his stomach for emphasis.

Piper nodded, "Well, suit yourself." She returned to her lists and wandered off in the general direction of the conservatory.

Lucien smiled, pleased that Piper was so willing to go through so much trouble just for him. The elemental's eyes slowly swept around the kitchen, allowing a moment of happiness to soak through to loosen the small knot in his stomach. Sure he missed his parents; he ached at the very thought of them, but this knot was not solely because he was a little homesick. Something was afoot and it would not be long before that something crashed into the Halliwells' lives. Sighing, Lucien slowly turned around and headed back down the stairs to wake up Anakin.

"Wyatt Mathew Halliwell!" Piper shouted up the stairs. "Get your ass down here this instant, or there will be hell to pay!"

"Ouch, Mom!" Anakin complained rubbing his ears as he walked down the stairs. His hair, slightly damp, and a towel wrapped loosely around his neck even despite already being fully dressed "Do you really have to yell so loud?"

Piper smiled, ruffling Anakin's hair as he reached arm's length. "So cute! But IF YOUR BROTHER KEEPS ON HITTING THE SNOOZE BUTTON, then I'm resigned to keep screaming up the stairs."

"Well, you could always just go up there and destroy just his eardrums instead of the entire family's," Anakin suggested, heading off toward the living room.

Piper sighed, forcing herself not to laugh and followed her time-traveling son. Once they reached the living room she asked, "What do you want for breakfast, sweetie? I made pancakes and strawberry syrup a bit earlier."

"Just a cup of really strong black tea," Anakin covered his mouth as he let out a big yawn. "But thanks for the offer." He continued when he could.

"Still not sleeping through the night?" Piper inquired, worried, and with good reason: Anakin had been struggling to get enough sleep for a while.

"It's nothing, Mom." Anakin assured her with a smile. When Piper still did not look convinced, his smile disappeared. "It's just your everyday run-of-the-mill bad dreams; absolutely nothing to do with anything remotely supernatural."

"Fine," Piper stated, although her tone clearly showed she was not convinced. She disappeared into the kitchen for a second before returning with a mug of hot water and a tea bag. "Even so," she handed Anakin the mug and tea bag. "Perhaps you should go see a therapist. It's been three months since the attack."

Anakin rolled his eyes as he added the bag to the steaming water. Piper had been trying to get him into see a shrink ever since they arrived back in the Manor after witnessing Jonathan's coronation. "Mom, really: I'm fine. I just need to get to bed a bit earlier and drink less milk before I _do_ go to bed." As he spoke, he continued to tease the tea out of the dried leave by dipping the bag in and out of the water.

"You're only able to stay awake because you drink gallons of tea," Piper admitted her fears. She watched Anakin expertly keep his hands busy with the tea bag with deep concern in her eyes. "It can't be good for you."

"What can't be good for whom?" Chris asked, mid-orb.

Piper bit her tongue. Orbing had become common practice in the Halliwell household since the rise of the new Source. Practice makes perfect. But it still rubbed her the wrong way when she saw magic being used unnecessarily. In her experience the use of magic only attracted attention of the deadly sort. "Are you going to eat Chris, or are you also going to just take a cup of coffee?"

"It's not coffee," Anakin muttered in his defense, still not looking up. "I _never_ drink coffee."

Chris shook his head at the ridiculousness of the younger man's reaction. "Some toast would be great, Mom." He said before turning to face Anakin. "Really think we'd think any less of you if you did drink coffee?"

Piper disappeared into the kitchen leaving the brothers to continue on with their talk.

Anakin ignored the question but he did look up when he spoke. "So are you ready for your potions quiz?" Anakin inquired innocently enough, but the smirk on his face said it all.

Chris shot the blond a brotherly glare. "Don't you _dare_ bring that up with Mom. She's already on my case for failing advanced telekinesis. Like I need to practice my own goddamn power," Chris muttered under his breath.

Anakin just continued to smirk. "Oh! But I thought we weren't supposed to keep secrets from family?"

"No," Chris said pointing his spoon at Anakin. "It's just _you_ who isn't supposed to keep any of your dreams and worries from the family. The rest of us are still allowed to have our private lives kept _private_."

Anakin opened his mouth to retort but Prue orbed in then, interrupting him. The two brothers watched their sole sister look around the room in confusion before taking a seat next to Anakin. She closed her eyes for a moment and her body went lax. Her head fell forward pulling her upper body with it and only ended its descent when it collided loudly with the dining room table. The exhausted female witch sat straight up in shock. "What happened? Who's at the door?" she glanced around looking for the cause of the noise.

"You fell asleep," Anakin explained trying desperately not to burst out laughing. He had to cover his mouth to hide his massive grin.

Prue rubbed her forehead and she slumped further into her seat. Rocking forward, she rested her head in her palms. She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and let out a soft groan. "Damn Physics exam. I was up all night memorizing fifty bazillion formulas."

"Well, I would take a Physics final over Potions any day," Chris muttered, sitting down.

"I, fortunately, don't have to worry about either," Anakin said cheerfully and ducked as Chris threw his spoon at him. "Hey, don't throw things." Anakin orbed the spoon into his hand. "MOM!"

Piper suddenly appeared around the corner, battle-ready. "What? Where's the demon?"

"No demon," Anakin assured, standing up from the table. "Just two cranky siblings." He brandished the spoon Chris had thrown at him. "Your son tried to decapitate me with _this_."

Piper took the spoon out of Anakin's hand. "And yet I still see your head attached to your body." Piper glanced over at her two middle children; they were exhausted, never a good thing with teenagers. "Just leave your siblings alone, Anakin."

Anakin pretended to be offended and stormed off into the kitchen. Piper rolled her eyes. "Prue, honey, want anything to eat?"

"Toast," Prue said through a loud yawn. "And hold the butter."

Chris pulled a face. "Dry toast, ugh."

"My stomach hasn't quite been willing to keep anything down," Prue started.

"Too much," Chris held up his hand. "Your bodily issues: so not an acceptable subject to discuss at the breakfast table." Prue smiled but did not say anything. Instead, she returned to resting her head in her hands.

It was at this time that Wyatt orbed, in his hair still soaking wet. "Anyone seen my blow dryer?"

"And he's the jock of the family," Chris muttered, lying his head back down on the cool surface of the table.

Prue fought a grin. "I think," she turned to face Wyatt, "Penelope borrowed it last night. She probably forgot to return it."

"Just great," Wyatt grumbled and slumped into Anakin's vacated seat.

This time, Prue could not control her grin and it broke across her face. Wyatt just rolled his eyes. "You could just use mine, Wy."

"Your blow dryer makes my hair poofy," Wyatt complained.

Piper walked into the room carrying two plates of toast. "Wyatt, why aren't you ready?"

"He's precious blow dryer has gone MIA," Chris stated as he took the offered plate. "Thanks, Mom."

"Yeah, thanks," Prue said before she nibbled on her piece of toast.

"Well, go use mine," Piper said. "But hurry up: your professor phoned last night and said in very plain English that if you're late one more time, he's going to fail you."

Wyatt groaned, but nonetheless, orbed out.

"Are both of you ready for your classes?" Piper asked, taking a seat.

"Yip," Prue managed to get out as she once again failed to stifle her yawn.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Chris said, carefully avoiding Piper's scrutinizing stare.

Piper raised an eyebrow. "And what is that supposed to mean, _Christopher_?"

"Nothing, Mom," Chris mumbled. He stood up from the table. "Thanks for the breakfast but I'd best be off. I promised Timothy I'd quiz him on his magical herbs before class." He gave Piper a kiss on the forehead and orbed out before she could retaliate.

"What's up with him?" Piper asked her exhausted daughter.

Prue swallowed her bite of toast. "He's got a Potions quiz today."

"But he's great at Potions," Piper said, with a frowning.

"Yeah, he is," Prue stated. "But the teacher doesn't like free thinkers. He likes by-the-book potions and that just isn't Chris's style."

"Oh," Piper mumbled thoughtfully. "Well, he should just study harder."

"Don't put me in the middle, Mom," Prue said, finishing the last bit of toast. "I'd prefer to still be on Chris's good side when I reach that class." She paused for a second before continuing carefully considering her next words. "My personal opinion on the matter, if your really need it, Mom, is to leave Chris be. He's a great student; you've got nothing to worry about."

Piper smiled appreciatively. When Prue scooted her chair out Piper looked up and frowned. "You heading off as well?"

Prue nodded. "Wouldn't hurt to get to class early." She walked over to her mother and gave her a hug. "And seriously, I mean it about Chris, Mom. He's as bad of a perfectionist as you are. You don't need to be adding to his problems."

Piper returned the hug. "You spoil all the fun of being a mother, ya know."

"Well, you're the one who wanted a girl," Prue teased as she disappeared in a swirl of orbs.

Piper smiled idly, before she stood up with a scowl. "WYATT! YOU'RE GOING TO BE LATE!"

Wyatt appeared in orbs downstairs. "I'm going, I'm going." He orbed a piece of dry bread into his hand and began to quickly shove it into his mouth.

Piper grabbed her oldest by the arm pulling the bread down with it. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Wyatt thought for a moment, chewing his food in a hurry. "Oh, right: see ya, Anakin!" He yelled once he swallowed.

Anakin's muffled voice came through a moment later, "Good luck, Wy!"

Piper rolled her eyes as Wyatt leaned in and kissed her son on the forehead. "Knock 'em dead, sweetie." She said with a smile.

"Well, hopefully it won't come to that," Wyatt returned the smile and then orbed out of sight.

"You know, Annie," Lucien said as he entered the blond's room with just a towel wrapped around his waist. "We really should do something with ourselves besides studying the Book."

Anakin nodded, looking up from the aforementioned book. "I guess, Luc, but we also can't forget that we've got a new Source to deal with."

"Believe me: I won't easily forget that," Lucien muttered. In a cheerier tone he added, "But I would like to enjoy my birthday as well, Annie."

Anakin closed the Book of Shadows and placed it on his bedside desk. Lucien studied the teen, expecting to see him sigh, before putting on a happy face. Anakin disappointed the curly-haired teen and went straight to a smile. "Want to go hang out at the mall?"

"And what will we tell the cops if they stop us?" Lucien inquired. "We are supposed to be at school."

Anakin pulled a face, thinking. "What about if we go to the mall and just avoid the mall officers?"

"Sounds like a plan that's just waiting to bite us in the ass," Lucien said solemnly.

Anakin stood up and walked over to the still bare-chested boy and wrapped his arms around Lucien's waist. "Why don't you decide what you want to do? Anything at all."

Lucien turned around and smiled mischievously. "I thought we both agreed that we're still too young."

"Well, you're now another year older," Anakin stated.

Lucien nodded slowly. "True, but I'd also like to live to be thirteen." Anakin grinned. Lucien thought for another moment. "Let's go to the mall and you can buy me an expensive birthday gift."

"And who's to say I don't already have a gift?" Anakin inquired in a hurt tone stepping back from Lucien.

"Oh, come on," Lucien pulled a t-shirt over his head, obscuring his voice for a second. "You'd have forgotten it's my birthday if your Mom had not asked you about it last night."

"So not true," Anakin pouted, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"It's ok," Lucien grinned. "I almost forgot myself. This time-traveling has completely screwed with my sense of time."

"Fine," Anakin's lips curled upwards. "But you still haven't answered your own objection to the plan."

"We could ask your mom to join us," Lucien suggested, now pulling on socks.

"Oh, how romantic." Anakin teased.

Lucien rolled his eyes. "We're two preteen boys, Anakin. What'd you expect?"

"Oh, maybe, a dinner by candlelight?" Anakin joked.

"When we're twenty and in college," Lucien stated, stand up again. "But for now, you're going to have to settle for your Mom and Hot-Dog-On-A-Stick."

"You're a very weird person," Anakin commented, opening his bedroom door.

"And yet, you still love me," Lucien gave Anakin a quick kiss and walked out the door.

Anakin followed Lucien out the door and down the short constructed hallway. Lucien started up the stairs but Anakin paused to look down the hallway. A shiver ran up his spine. He shook his head and started up the stairs as well, racing to catch up to Lucien. "MOM!" he called out when he caught up to Lucien by the kitchen door.

Piper walked through the swinging door that led to the living room carrying her handbag and car keys. "What do you need, Annie?"

"Are you working today?" he inquired lamely.

"No," Piper said slowly. "Pearson has a parent-teacher conference this afternoon, so I had Dominique cover me for the day. Why?"

"Want to take Lucien and me to the mall?" Anakin asked with pleading eyes.

Piper frowned and thought for a moment. "Alright," she said slowly.

Anakin had never been all that interested in just enjoying himself. In the five months he had been in the past he had done very little besides prepare for the final battle. He was very much like Chris and herself, she thought, although Piper would never admit that fact aloud. All three of them had a savior complex when it came to their family; they would sacrifice everything in order to protect their family.

She continued in a quicker tone, "But I still need to run a couple of errands before I can take you."

"Alright," Anakin looked at Lucien for confirmation.

Lucien shrugged. "Fine by me. What about Pearson?"

"He's with his father for the day," Piper said. She turned so that her eyes were locked onto Anakin's; she smiled with pride. "Seems seeing how powerful his future-self is has inspired him to start being more diligent in his magical studies."

"So," Anakin dragged the word out, wanting to ignore the awkward moment, "Should we join you or do you want to come back and fetch us?"

"It'll be easier if you just come along now," Piper said after a moment's thought. "The errands shouldn't take more than an hour and the mall only opens up at ten."

"Thanks, Piper," Lucien said with a small smile.

Piper nodded returning the smile. "It's my pleasure."

"Let me just get my iPod," Anakin said holding his hand out. The gadget appeared in his hand, accompanied with two sets of headphones.

"That's just abusing your powers," Piper said.

"What?" Anakin inquired innocently. "It's practice."

"Or personal gain," Piper retorted, eyes slitting. "I understand the orbing everywhere and I can even stand it when you and your brother's use your powers in those mock-battles of yours, but that's just plain personal gain."

"Oh relax, Mom," Anakin said dismissively. "Nothing happened."

"You just wait," Piper said as she started toward the door.

"What?" Anakin asked when Lucien gave him a look. "Nothing happened."

"No," Lucien stated. "But something could have happened."

"Not you, too!" Anakin heaved and rolled his eyes.

Lucien smiled. "Relax, Annie; that's the last I'll say anything on the subject."

"You guys coming?" called Piper from the entrance hallway.

"Coming," Anakin cried, giving Lucien a smile. "I'll stop using magic for personal gain, alright?"

"Actions speak louder than words," Lucien whispered as he walked away.

Anakin rolled his eyes again and ran to catch up with Lucien. "You should have been Catholic."

"Who says I wasn't?" Lucien said with a grin following Piper out the door.

"What do you mean I cheated?" yelled Wyatt.

The classroom was empty of students who had quickly vanished out of sight once Wyatt had started toward their professor. The professor, an aged dwarf that more resembled a lawn gnome decoration than anything else, stood his ground proudly. The blond witch was in a fury. How could anyone accuse him of cheating! Sure, he was lazy and he would be the first to admit that he was not the most punctual student. But cheating was never in his repertoire of passing a class. He still held some respect for school.

"I clearly saw you, Mr. Halliwell, looking at Samantha's exam." The dwarf professor firmly stated. "That is a clear violation of my class policy during examinations. Therefore, you cheated, and will get a zero for this exam."

"It's so not fair!" Wyatt growled. "I did not look at the paper. I was looking up to try and think. Not everyone can sit with a hunched back for _three_ hours."

"And insulting me is not going to help your case, Mr. Halliwell." The dwarf said calmly, although his eyes had flashed warningly. "Now please report to the Headmaster's office."

"NO!" Wyatt shouted, trying to calm himself down. "Mr. Fitzpatrick, I did not cheat. Look at the exams you'll see that I didn't cheat."

The dwarf shook his head. "Rules are rules. And despite being the Blessed One, they still apply to you, Mr. Halliwell."

"Urg!" Wyatt threw a hand out in the air, freezing the scene. "Why do I have to be stuck in this ridiculous class!" He orbed out leaving behind a frozen Mr. Fitzpatrick.

"That'll be another week's worth of detention, Mr. Halliwell." The dwarf called out, returning to the moving and breathing. He sighed and rubbed the front of his head as he looked at the large pile of papers sitting innocently on his desk.

Wyatt orbed back in at the entrance to the Magic School's administration office. He opened the door and strode through the first three quarters, seating areas for students and parents who wished to or had to see any of the five deputy headmasters or headmistresses. He paused at the fourth marbled glass door and took a deep breath. Across the door in bold black letters were the ominous words, "Headmaster Wyatt;" His dad was not going to be happy to see him here.

Slowly, Wyatt reached out and pulled the cool, polished, aluminum handle to reveal a bustling waiting room. He stepped into the crowd and allowed the door to swing shut behind him. The room was filled with magical creatures of all sorts and ages. Magic School was one of the few place that some of these beings ever interacted with another. The blond maneuvered through the constant flow of persons, fighting his way as politely as he could to the secretary's desk on the wall opposite of the door.

"Halliwell, Wyatt," Wyatt stated automatically, not even waiting for the obviously bored female elf to voice her question.

"Have a seat, Mr. Halliwell," the elf flatly spoke as she jotted down his name. "The Headmaster will see you in due time."

Wyatt nodded very much used to the procedure followed in the room. It was very DMV-ish, very impersonal; that was until they actually were called into Leo's office. He surveyed the room for open seats and was surprised when in a corner he spotted Chris and Prue among a number of his cousins.

"Not you, too!" Chris said when he spotted the approaching Wyatt. "It's like the teachers decided it was open season on Halliwells."

Wyatt, having not seen any free seating, conjured himself a seat and sat down. "Bloody dwarves. I swear that professor doesn't have a decent, reasonable bone in him."

"Well, don't feel too bad," Prue said. "Elves aren't all that better. Miss Goldtree thought she spotted me comparing notes with Jennifer after we turned our exams in. She tore our exams up right in front of us. Sent us here without even asking us to explain ourselves."

Wyatt looked around the room. "Where's Jennifer now?"

"She had a nervous breakdown," Chris whispered. "The nurse had to sedate her and send her home for the day."

"She's never failed anything," Prue explain. "And her parents are super strict. Poor girl."

"Don't tell me your professor thought you were cheating too, Chris," Wyatt said looking at his middle brother.

Chris shook his head. "He's smart enough to know I don't need to cheat. He had me thrown out for making too much noise. Just because I accidentally dropped a glass vial! It's not my fault his greasy hands make all the vials so slippery not even an octopus could keep a grip on them."

"Similar stories for the rest of you?" Wyatt asked looking over his cousins. They nodded and muttered 'yes'; a couple of them concluded with a few choice curse words. The group slipped into silence. Wyatt continued to watch the families around him as they went through and hand read all the small tidbits of facts written underneath all the magnificent paintings that adorned the walls. He had been in the room so many times, waiting for his father to take him to lunch or football practice, that he had memorized all the sayings. But the painting that still drew his eyes was the one of the banishment from heaven or The First Fall, the story on how Satan became who or what he is.

Leo came out of his office then, dressed in the swirling black robes of a Magic School professor. On the pocket was embroidered the symbols of learning and safety, the goal of Magic School. He was reading a paper with his nose barely inches away from the print. The secretary, tired of waiting, shoved the roll call list in Leo's face causing the man to jump.

"Yes," Leo took the offending clipboard. "Thank you. Will you please file these when you have time?" He handed her the stack of papers he had been reading when he had entered the room. He looked down and skimmed through the names, and that much was obvious.

"Halliwell, Christopher." He looked up and his eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. He walked over to the group. "What, did you all decide to play hooky or something?"

"No!" Chris muttered, indignant that his father could ever think of such a thing. "We're all cheaters, according to our wonderful professors."

Leo's eyes widened, checking his list. "All of you?"

"Yip," Prue dully stated. "Not that any of us actually cheated though, Daddy. It's just what the teachers suspected."

Leo nodded slowly as he ran a pen across a few lines on his clipboard. "Alright, go back to your classes. I'll deal with this during lunch." They stood up and started toward the door. "And guys? Try to not be sent back here."

"Tell that to our teachers," Wyatt called out as he vanished around the corner.

"Do you think Dad's really going to tell all our teachers off?" Chris inquired.

"No," Wyatt shook his head. "Dad's just going to ask the teachers what happened and then quietly reinstate all our exam grades, or in your case, Prue, give you an excuse. He's too much of a pacifist to call them out on anything."

"But call them out on what?" Penelope asked. "Why send us all to Uncle Leo's office?"

"It is a bit fishy," Prue said stopping at one of the classrooms. "But whatever it is, can it wait till lunch? I've got an English exam next and I'd prefer to actually have time to write the essay."

"Same here," Paisley said. "Although I still probably won't get to the essay the way this day is going." She added in a fed-up tone.

"Fine, we'll meet in the main library at lunch," Wyatt said. "Good luck."

The others said their goodbyes and good lucks and dispersed down various branching corridors. Wyatt sighed once he was the sole person remaining in the corridor. Could life ever just be normal for them, he wondered as he orbed to the nursery.

"Wyatt!" Mrs. Winterbourne exclaimed when he materialized out of the swirling blue orbs. She was holding a baby who seemed to enjoy setting the old witch's recently cut curly blonde hair on fire. "What are you doing here?"

Wyatt took the baby from the frazzled witch and rocked him back and forth. "I'm the nursery volunteer for the day."

"Oh," Mrs. Winterbourne sat down in a rocking chair, "right. Sorry, I'm just a bit out of it today."

"Really?" Wyatt inquired, concerned. Mrs. Winterbourne had always been a very chipper and ready-to-help person; Wyatt had never known her ever to be sick. "Do you need to see the nurse?"

"No, dear," the witch shook her head extremely carefully. "It's just a migraine." She rubbed her temples and smiled, "I'll manage."

"A migraine," Wyatt deposited the now smiling baby in his playpen. "Do you get them often?"

"Not really," Mrs. Winterbourne closed her eyes and rocked slowly. "Now that you mention it, the last time I had one was when I first developed my advanced telekinetic powers."

"But you've been teaching that class since before I was born," Wyatt's eyes widened.

"It's not unheard of," Mrs. Winterbourne said in a calming voice, "for older people to develop health issues they did not have in their youth."

"Yes," Wyatt nodded thinking to himself. "But you're not that old."

"You're sweet," Mrs. Winterbourne smiled wanly. "But I'm over a hundred and thirty. It's about time old age caught up with me."

"A hundred and thirty!" Wyatt couldn't hide his surprise. "You don't look a day over forty."

Mrs. Winterbourne nodded. "That'll be my elven half. My grandfather was one, you know."

"Wow," Wyatt sat down heavily. "That must be quite amazing."

"Not really," Mrs. Winterbourne stated. "For all their fabulous magical powers, Elves are extremely susceptible to mental torment. And unfortunately, that is the one other thing I inherited from my grandfather. Every time the telepaths have their practicals, it's an absolute nightmare for me. Although your father has been kind enough to have the graduate students set up wards to at least dull the mental explosions."

"Yeah, my father's a pushover," Wyatt smiled fondly but then something Mrs. Winterbourne had said made him think. His eyes lit up with excitement, an idea sketched out in his mind. "Mrs. Winterbourne, do you mind if I leave for a bit?"

"No," Mrs. Winterbourne, bemusement in her tone. "But do I get to know why?"

Wyatt stood up. "Yeah, I need to finish looking something up for my magical theory exam. And I'm afraid if I don't do it right now, I might forget."

The witch nodded. "Alright, but be back here after lunch. I need to go to my quarterly report with your father and someone needs to stay with the little ones."

"Will do, Mrs. Winterbourne," Wyatt called back and strode quickly to the door. "Thank you."

Wyatt ran down the hallway and into the main library. He quickly found the book he was looking for and sat down at one of the large study tables. He flipped through the aging pages of the book until he found the section on vampire telepathy.

…_Of all the powers vampires are known to possess, none is more famous than their uncanny ability to control and manipulate their victims. Known today as telepathy, the vampiric form is well documented to be much more a form of brainwashing and entrapment than the suggestion any witch could send…_

"That's it!" Wyatt exclaimed, causing a few people around him to jump up. "Sorry," he muttered sheepishly as he rushed out of the library in the direction of his father's office.

"What do you mean that my accounts are frozen!" Piper yelled at the bank attendant.

"Please don't shout, ma'am," the young attendant shakily requested.

Piper rolled her eyes, placing both hands firmly on the counter in front of her. In a low, deadly calm voice she requested, "Tell me."

"Ma'am, I'm not allowed to tell you…"

"Not allowed to tell me!" Piper shook her head, her voice rising again with every word. "You can tell me that I can't draw _my own_ money, but you can't tell me why? Get me your manager!"

"Mom," Anakin whispered, warily glancing around at the staring strangers and approaching security guard. "You need to calm down. You're making a scene."

Piper looked up and gave the security guard a glancing glare. "The last time my accounts were held up was back when P3 was almost shut down by the health inspector. With Phoebe in hiding, the last thing this family needs is financial issues."

"I understand that," Anakin kept his eyes on the security guard who was hovering, feet away. "But I'd also like to not have to visit you in jail. So calm down; I'm sure it's just a computer error."

"Ma'am," a well-dressed man with slicked-back black hair and warm brown eyes came up to the counter. "I have been informed that you have some problems with your account."

Anakin studied the man although he was still thoroughly aware of the security guard watching them. The man was lean and at least as tall as Wyatt. His skin was pale with his lips only a few shades pinker. He stood upright and with his hands behind his back. Everything about the man was angular except for his chin, which was more like a rounded square. These physical features, however, were not what drew Anakin's attention. The young blond felt a tug in the back of his mind when his eyes met the banker's brown eyes. The man quickly shifted his eyes back to Piper.

"Yes," Piper took a calming breath. "The young person who was helping told me that my accounts have been frozen. I would like to know why."

"Ah," the man smiled, this time keeping his eyes fixed on Anakin and Lucien. The extended gaze sent shivers up Anakin's back. "We received a letter from the IRS requesting that we freeze your accounts and those of your sisters. I informed them that your sisters closed their accounts a number of years ago."

Piper nodded. "The IRS, you say? Why haven't they contacted me about this yet?"

"That, ma'am, you will have to ask them," he gave Piper a flashing, knowing smile. "Once you have everything sorted out with them, we will gladly unfreeze your accounts. I am sorry for the…"

The rest of his apology was drowned out by Piper's gruff, "Alright." She waved him quiet. "Is there any way I can get the money needed to pay my employees and bills?"

The man's eyes shifted down to the computer screen for a split second. "The IRS did not stipulate anything concerning the payment of bills."

Piper frowned. "Alright," she turned to Anakin and Lucien, "let's go." She glanced over shoulder to offer a, "Thank you," but she did not mean it.

They reached the car and Piper cursed loudly. "This is bad."

Lucien remained silent while Anakin awkwardly tried to calm his mother down. "We'll figure this out, Mom."

Piper nodded. "We need to get back to the Manor." She looked at Anakin with a look of regret. "Sorry. I can still drop you off if you want."

Anakin looked at Lucien who gave him a smile and a shrug. Anakin bit his lip. "No, Mom; we'll figure something else out."

Piper looked at Lucien ruefully. "I really didn't plan this, Lucien."

"It's alright, Piper," Lucien smiled. "I'm perfectly fine reading the Book of Shadows some more."

"Ew," Anakin groaned. "No, let's take a break from the whole Source-hunting. It's your birthday, Lucien: I'm not planning on vanquishing anything today."

"Sweet," Lucien ruffled Anakin's hair. "But I know that you and Wyatt vanquished two demons before the sun even came up this morning."

Piper looked at Anakin, slightly annoyed. "I thought we agreed no demon unscheduled demon hunting."

"So not the biggest concern at the moment," Anakin said, steering Piper away from the sensitive issue. "Remember, you've got fifty employees to pay."

"Let's go home," Piper said unlocking the car. "But we are going to discuss this once this crisis is over."

"Whatever, Mom." Anakin sighed as he climbed into the passenger seat.

Lucien, already seated behind Piper, placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Now you have time to make your famous flat cake, three years early."

Anakin whimpered. "You suck sometimes."

"Flat cake?" Piper inquired, thankful for the distraction.

"Yeah," Lucien grinned. "Just after Anakin and I got together he decided to make me a birthday cake. But I guess he forgot to add a leavening agent. The cake was so tough and…" Lucien chuckled, not finishing the statement. "Oh, you wouldn't _believe_ how tasteless it was."

"And that was the last time I cooked for him," Anakin finished, blushing furiously. "One person can only take so many insults and innuendos."

"Hey!" Lucien joked. "That was all Wyatt. I just added commentary."

Piper laughed. "I can only imagine."

"Oh, don't you go playing innocent," Anakin stated. "You're the one who egged them on."

"Egged them on?" Piper looked shocked. "Me?"

"Unfortunately Annie's telling the—WATCH OUT!"

The car screeched as Piper slammed on the brakes; the black Honda Fit, however, only seemed to speed up. The two cars collided with the Honda crashing into Piper's side of the car, the Jeep flipping on its side. As it crashed onto the ground, the remaining unbroken windows shattered. Smoke billowed out of the cracks on the sides of the hood.

Anakin, bleeding from the forehead and deafened by the sound of the initial crash, hung upside down, suspended by his seatbelt. Slowly the blond cautiously shifted his gaze from the bland picture of black tar to his mom. Piper, like Anakin, was hanging from her seat. Her face was severely cut by the spray of glass and her door was punched right up against her side. Her hands grazed the glass-covered roof of the car and drops of blood stained the beige interior.

Anakin glanced away, still unsure if what he was seeing was real or some messed up nightmare. In his peripheral vision, he caught signs of movement. He turned back to his mother and looked past her. He watched in hopeful silence as the driver of the black Honda got out of the driver's side with uncanny ease, walking up to the overturned Jeep. He walked around the front of the car at a leisurely pace, stopping only when he reached Anakin's door. He bent down just low enough so that his eyes were level with the bottom of the broken window. He had a distant look of horror on his face that did not quite reach his emotionless brown eyes. His brown hair was clotted with blood and his face had thousands of small scratches.

"Are you alright?" he whispered in a hoarse voice.

Anakin nodded slowly, cringing in pain. "Don't worry about me. My Mom's unconscious and bleeding pretty badly. Can you phone 911?" Anakin's voice was shaky and his entire body quivered.

"Yes, of course," the man straightened up and staggered back over to his barely damaged car.

Anakin tried to twist around to see Lucien and managed to catch a glimpse out of the corner of his eyes. Like Piper, the curly haired teen was unconscious and suspended from his seat. His arm that had been outstretched at the moment of the impact had an obviously broken bone; a huge lump disrupted Lucien's straight forearm halfway toward the elbow.

Anakin closed his eyes and tried to stay calm, but he was totally out of his zone. He dealt with demons and the horrors of the supernatural: this was just an ordinary car crash. No amount of demon-hunting and being hunted by demons could prepare a person for the utter helplessness he felt when two persons whom he cared about were in critical condition. He hated the feeling of being useless. He reached over to touch his mom, to assure himself she was still alive, but his he head began to pound and he quickly withdrew his hand. When the headache did not dissipate, he kneaded his temples, forcing himself to take deep, controlled breaths.

The man appeared back alongside Anakin. "The police are on their way. Can you get out?" He glanced at Anakin's seatbelt.

Anakin gingerly reached up and unbuckled himself. He collapsed onto the glass-filled roof, further injuring his body with superficial wounds. He crawled out of the passenger side window, cutting up his arms and legs in the process. Finally, the blond reached the window and pulled himself through it. Once outside, Anakin dropped to the pavement exhausted, every inch of his body aching.

"Is everything alright?" the man hovering over him questioned. His concern was obvious. "Anything sore?"

"Just my head," Anakin muttered, breathing heavily. "I think I might have knocked it against the dashboard. The passenger side airbag didn't deploy."

The man nodded and peeked into the overturned car. "Your friends don't look too hot. Hope the ambulance gets here quickly." He knelt down beside Anakin. "I didn't even see you."

"That much is obvious," Anakin muttered, annoyed.

"I'm so sorry," the man broke down and touched Anakin's shoulder.

Anakin's head exploded in pain. "Ow!" He hissed as he rubbed his head and sat up. The headache died down slightly, but the throbbing did not completely disappear.

The sounds of sirens were heard and the man stood up to greet the oncoming police, firemen, and paramedics. Anakin sat on the street, rubbing his temples and trying to sort through his thoughts. Most of the images that flickered past his closed eyes were of Piper or Lucien lying on gurneys, dead.

Wyatt sat excitedly in his father's office waiting for Leo to end his phone call with one worried parent or another.

"…yes, we take full protective measures." Leo said exasperatedly. "No evil can enter the school while we are in session … no, we still have the no-dying ward up and running." Leo rolled his eyes and Wyatt had to stifle a laugh. "No, that is just my son. He's waiting for me so that we can go to lunch … yes, I know it's highly inappropriate for him to be in the headmaster's office, but he's a trustworthy young man … alright, I look forward to meeting you on parent's night. Goodbye." Leo put the phone down. "You just saved my sanity." Wyatt smiled. "So what's so urgent that you bypassed the receptionist?"

"I think I figured out what's going on!" Wyatt said excitedly. He handed Leo the library book with a wide smile. "Read the section on vampiric telepathy."

Leo skimmed the bookmarked page. "Alright, but we have wards against outside telepathy, Wyatt."

"Yes," Wyatt nodded urgently, "I know that: but Zankou broke through the wards and Jonathan is stronger than that Source-wannabe."

"Still," Leo said slowly, "it's a pretty far leap in logic, Wy."

"Why?" Wyatt inquired defensively, brow furrowed. "How else do you explain _your_ teachers' recent actions?"

Leo shrugged. "From what I've heard, each of these teachers and you, your siblings, and cousins have had other similar encounters. Albeit not at the same time, like this, but it could just be that they had a slip of judgment."

"Oh, whatever!" Wyatt snapped.

"Don't take that tone with me, Wyatt," Leo warned.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Can't you just take my word on something for once, Dad?"

Leo sighed. "Look, I have meetings with each of your teachers. I'll ask them if they've suffered any headaches recently."

"Headaches?" Wyatt asked.

"Yes," Said Leo. "If a person fights against a powerful telepathic suggestion, they develop a headache from the mental strain."

"Headache," Wyatt muttered. Then it suddenly clicked. "Mrs. Winterbourne!"

"What about her?" Leo questioned, but Wyatt was already disappearing through the roof in the form of blue orbs.

The blond-haired witch reappeared in the nursery, calling out, "Mrs. Winterbourne!"

"Wyatt," the nursery advisor was still seated in the same rocking chair Wyatt had left her, but she was holding a sleeping toddler on her lap. "I wasn't expecting you back so soon."

"Your migraine," Wyatt pushed forward, "when did it start?"

"Um…" Winterbourne tapped a perfectly manicured finger against her chin. "Last night, I would have to say. Just after I left your mother's club, actually."

"You were at P3?" Wyatt inquired, surprised.

"Yes," the graying witch nodded. "A group of us professors get together there once a week to discuss you students and to relax. I must say your Mom is doing an excellent job with the club."

Wyatt nodded. "Thanks. Who else was with you?"

"Well there was Mr. Fitzpatrick, your Social Science professor, I believe. And then there was my great aunt, Emily Goldtree, your sister's Physics professor. Dr. Prince, our resident Potions Master, and a few others. Why?" The witch looked at Wyatt quizzically.

"Because," Wyatt said, sitting down, thinking, "I think you all came in close contact with the new Source, or at least one of his top-level henchmen."

"My God," the usually mild-mannered witch gasped. "Are you sure?"

"Your headache," Wyatt said, still thinking. "It could be a side effect from him trying to persuade you telepathically."

"Whatever for?"

Wyatt frowned. "In order to get to us," he muttered. "Each of you has regular close contact with my family and me. All the others already accomplished their goals, I think. They distracted us, making us blind to things happening outside these halls, outside this school." Wyatt closed his eyes and paled. "Mrs. Winterbourne, I think you'd best call these guys' parents. My dad's going to want to close the school for the day."

"Why?" Mrs. Winterbourne inquired, carefully standing up with some effort. The tot barely twitched.

"There's been an accident," was all Wyatt said before he orbed out. He arrived moments later in Leo's office.

"Wyatt!" Leo exclaimed, looking disapprovingly at his son. "I'm with a student."

"Yes, I sensed that," Wyatt turned to the young girl. "Sorry, but I need my dad."

The black-haired timid girl nodded and started toward the door.

"Wyatt, this is really getting ridiculous," Leo whispered exasperatedly.

"It's not that," Wyatt gently stated. "Mom and Anakin have been in an accident."

"An accident?" Leo's face grew a deathly white. "When?"

"I don't know," Wyatt admitted. "I was so caught up in trying to figure everything out that…" he lost his voice for a moment. "…I didn't sense it happen."

Leo nodded hastily. "Go get your siblings. Pearson should be in the Basic Telepath class."

"And the others?" Wyatt asked.

Leo stopped mid-stride. "I'm going to inform Phoebe and Paige. If you happen to run into your cousins along the way, by all means, tell them, but don't go out of your way. Your Mom and brother might need our help."

Wyatt watched his father disappear out the door to his office before orbing out.

Anakin sat in the back of the ambulance, silently analyzing the paramedic as the young woman checked his vital signs and sterilized his wounds.

"You're one lucky, kid," the woman said with a smile.

Anakin grunted.

"You're worried about your Mom and friend, aren't you?" the woman asked conversationally. Anakin was not interested in joining in. The paramedic nodded. "Still in shock, I guess. Well, don't you worry about them; my friends will take good care of them."

A uniformed policeman walked up to the ambulance then. "Mind if I ask him a few questions?"

"Not at all," the paramedic stepped aside to fiddle with something out of Anakin's line of sight. "But he's in shock, so don't expect much."

The policeman nodded. "What's your name?"

"Anakin," Anakin mumbled.

The policeman jotted it down. "Did you see what happened, Anakin?"

Anakin looked out at the crash scene. "We were laughing, and then there was this loud crash, and I felt as if I was about to be ripped in two." He unconsciously rubbed his chest.

The paramedic lifted up his shirt and the imprint of his seatbelt was visible. "No broken ribs, but that's going to be a painful bruise."

The policeman continued to write. "So you didn't see the car before it crashed into you?"

Anakin shook his head. "My mom braked hard, but it was too late."

"So she saw the car?" the policeman pressed.

Anakin shut his eyes. "No, Lucien was the one."

"Lucien?" the policeman frowned. "The kid in the back?"

"Yes," Anakin nodded. "Can I see him?"

"When we get to the hospital," the paramedical assured him, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder to keep him seated.

"So after the crash, what happened?" the policeman questioned, looking up from his pad, pen in hand.

"The driver of the other car came over and asked if we were alright. He phoned the police." Anakin ran a hand through his hair. "I unbuckled myself and crawled out of the car. Then you guys arrived."

"Are you sure you saw the driver of the other vehicle?" the policeman inquired in what Anakin thought was a shocked voice.

"Positive," Anakin stated. The policeman's pen still was stalled and Anakin looked at the man, worried – no – angry. "I saw him!"

"That's impossible, sweetie," the paramedic stated gently. "The driver of the other car was killed on impact."

"No!" Anakin shouted, starting to hyperventilate. "That's not true. I saw him!"

"The driver was a female," the policeman said. "A..." he flipped back a few pages in his notepad, "one, Silvia Woo."

"Could it have been a passenger?" the paramedic inquired.

"No," Anakin shook his head. "He was definitely the driver. There was only one person in the car."

"But you stated you didn't see the car," the policeman reminded Anakin.

"I know that," Anakin snapped. "But I know that there was only one person in the car. And that person was a man. He had brown hair and," Anakin paused. He knew what he had felt when those eyes had met his, but how to put it into words. He nibbled his lip while the policeman waited impatiently tapping his pen on the notepad. "He had – brown eyes. He was covered in scratches and kind of thin. He was well dressed, tight black jeans and a well-fitted, white, frilly shirt."

The policeman wrote down the description. "We'll put out a broadcast with the description."

"I'm not crazy!" Anakin snapped, glaring at the officer.

"I never said you were," the policeman looked slightly disconcerted, though.

"No," Anakin lay back down, hand over his eyes, "but you were thinking it. Can we go? This headache is killing me."

The paramedic nodded. "We're going to San Francisco Memorial if you have any more questions." The paramedic closed the door of the ambulance before the policeman could argue. "Let's go, Rockwell. This kid could have a cerebral hemorrhage."

Anakin lay on the gurney with his eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain in his head. "Do you know what's wrong with my mom?"

The paramedic came close to Anakin so that her lips were nearly touching his ear. "It's nothing your dad can't fix, Anakin."

"Wait," Anakin frowned, suspicious. "How'd you know my dad?"

"Perhaps because I worked with him for a time," the paramedic smiled. "I used to be a whitelighter, but I got my wings clipped when I lost one of my charges. I've been a mortal ever since."

"Oh," Anakin sighed. "Still doesn't explain how you know that Leo's my father."

"Leo's kept in touch," the paramedic explained. "He and I were in training together along with Natalie; that training kind of forms strong bonds."

"And Lucien?" Anakin inquired.

"He's in a bit more critical condition, but once again, we've got magic on our side." The paramedic winked. Her face turned quizzical after a long length of silence. "Care to explain why you look so old – and you're lacking an arm? I thought you were only eight and barely coming into your powers."

"Yeah," Anakin sighed, "I time traveled back in time to save my family and instead, they're saving me."

"Time travelers, hey," the ex-whitelighter's lips curled upwards, "very interesting."

Anakin nodded and rolled over onto his side. "Is a cerebral hemorrhage supposed to hurt so much?"

"Well, the definition of a cerebral hemorrhage is bleeding in the brain," the woman checked Anakin's vital signs on the computer screen. "That bleeding puts pressure on the brain."

"Oh," Anakin rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, "well, I hope my Dad's waiting at the hospital then. What's your name?"

"It's Emily," the paramedic said.

"Well, it's nice to meet you Emily," Anakin said as his closed his eyes once again, and he prayed for the pounding to stop.

"I told you not to put their life in danger," Jonathan hissed. "You tipped Wyatt and the whole _fucking_ group at Magic School off. Now this will all have been in vain."

The brown-haired man from the accident bowed low. "I am sorry Jonathan, but a car crash is an unpredictable thing."

The black-haired bank manager walked up to Jonathan. "But not all may be in vain; if we act quickly, we can still kill the target."

"No," Jonathan said softly, thinking. "It'll be risking too much for too little. I still do not have the backing of the Underworld." Jonathan murmured under his breath. "To risk further angering Anakin," he paused and looked at Brendan meaningfully, "when it is not required. No," Jonathan looked down at the brown-haired demon. "Arise, Hellequin. You have nothing to fear from me." Hellequin slowly rose from his knee and his skin shimmered, revealing a large red sawn tattooed on his right cheek. Jonathan nodded and muttered to himself. "Yes," he walked back so that he was standing next to Brendan. "I have another job that requires your subtleties."

The brown-haired demon smiled and conjured up a mask that was half red and half black. He placed it on and it seared itself onto his face so that only his brown eyes could be seen behind the crying mask "What is your bidding?"

"Your persuasion on the witch that runs the nursery at the school is it still upon her?"

"She is stronger-willed than the others," Hellequin stated. "But I can break her."

"Good, I want her to attack the Halliwells at the Manor." Jonathan whispered. "But she is to be a distraction, Hellequin. I don't want her or any of the Halliwell witches to die – not yet." Jonathan grinned and his fangs elongated for a second.

"Why not kill them if we have the chance?" Brendan inquired softly in Jonathan's ear. "It _would_ earn the Underworld's favor."

"Because," Jonathan whispered, "I want them to witness my rise to power. I want them to know that they are powerless to do a damn thing before I put them out of their pathetic lives." Jonathan stared imposingly at the two demons. "I also cannot risk not wiping them _all_ out."

Brendan, the bank manager impersonator, stepped forward holding a crossbow. "My liege, I have gotten word that another whitelighter has been killed and his powers stolen as you requested."

Jonathan nodded, "Excellent. Inform your followers that they are to prepare to storm the heavens."

"The heavens?" Hellequin asked, concerned. "You do not wish to take out the Halliwells but you are willing to take on the Elders?"

"Yes, if you hold up your end of the plan," Jonathan snarled. "Those pompous, self-righteous angels will be all but powerless against my army: so long as no witch comes to their rescue."

"Understood, Jonathan." Hellequin bowed. "I will concentrate my efforts on the witch. But what of the Halliwell witch: should I drop the line?"

Jonathan pondered the question for a moment. "Anakin is strong-willed. The entire family is." Jonathan studied Hellequin in silence. "Do what you must to succeed."

The masked demon nodded in acknowledgement that he understood the meaning. "I will send word to you when Mrs. Winterbourne has become nothing more than my willing puppet."

Jonathan returned Hellequin's unsettling grin. "But only use your new abilities if you absolutely have to," Jonathan warned. "This family is not one I wish to reveal my entire hand to if it is not necessary. It is a mistake made by previous demons, and they paid for it with more than just their pathetic lives."

Hellequin bowed, flamboyantly waving his hand, and vanished, leaving behind a faint blood red outline of certain facial features. The outline disappeared a moment later and Jonathan swept through the room, Brendan in tow. "Handle spreading the news with care, Brendan. The last thing I need is for the Underworld to fall into further chaos. I still have enemies, and there are many friends of my adoptive father still out there."

"But surely they will bend to the will of the Source?" Brendan inquired, moving closer.

Jonathan nodded. "But breaking the Source's will has been more of a challenge than I originally anticipated."

"Even so, few will dare challenge you, my liege." Brendan said in a faint tone of awe.

"I realize that," Jonathan muttered, moving away from Brendan. "But any weakness could cause their ambitious halves to reveal themselves. I have placed much in your and Hellequin's capable hands. Do not misuse this gift, as it will not be given again." With that, Jonathan flamed out.

Brendan glanced around the empty passageway with a cocky grin. He burst into black orbs that swirled around for a few moments before disappearing through the roof.

Anakin woke up in an uncomfortably thin hospital bed. He groaned and turned over to see a red-eyed Prue sitting in a chair right against his bed. "Hey sis!"

Prue jumped and she burst into tears. "Oh, God!" She got up and hugged Anakin firmly. "Annie! You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Relax, Prue," Anakin wrapped his sole arm around Prue's trembling back.

Prue sniffled and stood back with a grin. "Oh, Annie; you fell unconscious and they rushed you in to the O.R. – Dad tried to heal you, but couldn't – and they thought it was a cerebral…"

"Hemorrhage, I know," Anakin finished quietly. "But then I'd still be out of it. What happened to Mom and Lucien?"

Prue slipped onto Anakin's bed. "Mom's fine; Dad was able to heal her up in no time. But Lucien was in such a state. They rushed him into the O.R. as well. But by the time Dad got to him, there were already doctors in the room – and we couldn't just expose magic."

Anakin paled, trembling. "Please tell me he's ok, Prue."

"Yeah, he's fine," Prue brushed Anakin's hair out of his face. "He's a tough one, that boyfriend of yours."

Anakin could not help but smile, but then turned serious. "Do we know what happened?"

"The police are in with Mom at the moment interviewing her," Prue sniffed. "But as far as they're letting on, Mom's in the clear."

"Did they find the real driver?" Anakin inquired softly.

"No," Prue whispered. "And Wyatt doesn't believe they will."

"Why not?" Anakin inquired.

"Because," Prue dropped her voice even lower, despite Anakin being in a private room. "He thinks the guy you saw was a demon."

"A demon?" Anakin eyes widened. "What the hell gave him that idea?"

"Well," Prue paused to look around, "weird stuff was going on in Magic School, as well. Some of the teachers were acting weird – some had it out for the Halliwell clan. Wyatt thinks they were influenced by Jonathan to keep us distracted."

"Distracted from what?" Anakin asked, despite already knowing the answer.

"The accident," Prue said, and her eyes left Anakin's in shame. "None of us felt it happen, Annie. It was only after Wy discovered this possibility that he sensed your panic."

Anakin nodded. "So the entire thing was a setup. But no one was killed. And that guy had the perfect opportunity to kill me. It just doesn't add up."

"Well," Prue bit her lip, "if Aunt Phoebe's ex is anything to go along with, Jonathan isn't finished with us yet."

"What the hell else could he possibly throw at us?" Anakin asked tiredly.

"Well, he could attack at this precise moment; that's at the top of my list." Prue said. "But Mom and Dad think he's up to something far more diabolical."

"Wouldn't put it past the bastard," Anakin muttered.

Prue grinned. "Well, the rest of the family will be glad to know that you're awake." She jumped off the bed. "I'll go fetch them."

Anakin closed his eyes. "So everything is fine?"

"Yeah," Prue patted Anakin in reassurance. "No one is in any dire danger that we know of."

"Ah," Emily chose then to walk through the door. "You're awake. I'll go get the nurse."

"Awake?" came Wyatt's loud voice. "Why the hell weren't we informed?"

"Because Prue was saving me from your voice," Anakin sarcastically joked.

Wyatt clutched his heart. "That hurt, li'l bro."

"Get over it," snapped both Anakin and Pearson.

Prue chuckled. "Guess not too many things change in three years."

"Well, not personality-wise," Anakin said soberly.

Pearson hopped onto Anakin's bed. "And that's a bad thing?"

"I'd say not," Lucien said as he was wheeled into the room by Paige. His arm was in a bright green cast and he still sported all the bruises and scabs from the car crash.

"Lucien," Anakin grinned, relieved. "Some birthday."

Lucien nodded. "You owe me one, Anakin."

"Hey!" Anakin laughed. "It's my parents' karma that's the problem."

"What karma?" Leo questioned walking through the door, helping a still battered and bruised Piper hobble into the room.

"Oh, nothing," Anakin mumbled. "When do we get out of here and get fixed up a bit more properly?"

"As soon as I'm done here." A nurse walked in and stated, pushing Penelope out of her way as she made her way to the medical equipment next to Anakin's bed. She began to make marks on a chart she had pulled from the foot of his bed moments before. The room fell into a hush as the nurse worked. She mumbled under her breath as she scribbled in data. Finally, she looked up. "I just need your legal guardians to sign the discharge papers and you will be on your way, Mr. Halliwell."

Leo raised his hand. "I can do that."

The aging nurse wobbled over to Leo and handed him a pen and the chart. "Sign here, and here, and here." Leo did as he was told. "Everything is in order," she said as she checked over the chart one more time. "The doctor will want to schedule an appointment in the next week or so to remove those stitches."

"Thanks," Anakin said, sliding off his bed, disengaging various wires as he did so. "_Now_ can we get out of here?"

"You might want to change first." Lucien whispered.

Anakin looked down to see himself in a hospital gown. "Right, I'll change and _then_ we can go?"

"Yes," Leo said, kissing Piper in the process, both parents smiling. "Then we'll go home and have a big birthday blowout."

"What about the bank?" Anakin suddenly asked as the members of the family began to file out of the room to give him some privacy.

"Oh," Leo smirked, "it seemed to just be a technical issue. They phoned while you were still unconscious."

Anakin frowned. "It doesn't add up," he muttered, but no one heard him. He shrugged off his discomfort and changed as quickly as he could. He left the used gown on the unmade hospital bed and joined his family in the hallway. "Ready!"

"Right," Paige said loudly, "Mitchell family to the van: pronto!"

"Same goes for you, Loves!" Coup shouted over the raucousness. "We'll meet you at the Manor."

"Sounds great," Leo replied. "Alright, let's go find a nice secluded hall to vanish in."

"Your best bet is the coroner's, first floor on your left," Emily suggested. She waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd.

"Cool!" Pearson jumped up and down. "We get to see dead people!"

Lucien pulled Anakin down to mouth-height and whispered in the blond's ear, causing him to grin, "And yet, some things have changed dramatically."


	13. Devastation and Reform

Devastation and Reform

The Wyatt-Halliwell family along with Lucien, who still occupied the flimsy hospital wheelchair, orbed into the pitch black parlor of the Halliwell Manor. Chris unthinkingly telekinetically flipped the light switch. The room was flooded with bright incandescent light, temporarily blinding most of the occupants. There was a universal groan at the twinge of pain caused by their pupils contracting suddenly.

"A warning would've been nice," grumbled Wyatt as he blinked away the blinding white spots dancing across his blurred vision.

"Never mind that," Prue said, although she was also squinting. "Let's heal up the injured and get ready to _par_-_tay_."

Anakin, freshly released from Piper's clutches, walked over to Lucien who had parked himself in a corner, slightly offset from the rest of the group. The blond bent down next to Lucien. "Can I do the honors?"

Lucien rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Whatever gets me out of this uncomfortable contraption."

Wyatt joined the two time travelers leaving the healing of Piper in the capable hands of Chris and Leo. In a low voice he inquired, "Want to go check the Book before the rest of the family arrives?" Wyatt glanced over his shoulder to make sure Piper was not in earshot.

"No vanquishing on my birthday, huh?" Lucien teased, climbing out of the awkward wheelchair. Anakin just shot the smart-aleck a glare that seethed, 'very-funny'. The blond orbed the now useless lime green and aluminum wheelchair back to the hospital with a subtle upward rotation of his wrist.

The reminder of the day's events no longer in sight, Anakin refaced Lucien and his oldest brother. In a friendly, yet accusatory tone he said, "I had nothing to do with the car accident. And you know it, Lucien."

"Relax, Annie," Lucien stated, wrapping his arm around the blond's neck playfully. "I'm perfectly willing to go on a demon hunt. It wouldn't be a birthday with you without the annual trip to the lair of some un-vanquishable demon or another." Lucien gave Anakin a short kiss on the cheek and let go of the now brooding preteen.

"What's the bet that this has something to do with Jonathan?" Anakin whispered, his eyes flashing menacingly.

Wyatt nodded. "I agree; he's up to something." When neither of the younger boys appeared to have any comment to add he continued, "Let's head up to the attic before Mom volunteers us for decoration duty."

Anakin glanced over at his vibrant mother who, now fully healed, was already gearing up to hand out the orders. "After you," he muttered, careful to avoid Piper's gaze when she glanced over in their direction.

Wyatt started to creep toward the stairway pretending to be in a deep conversation with Lucien and Anakin. All three young men were careful to never look directly at Piper as they inched their way to their escape route. Piper took little notice of the small group as she doled out assignments to Leo, Chris, Prue, and Pearson. The grandfather clock chimed in a low dull _dong_ that the seventh hour of the evening was upon them. On cue, it seemed the muffled sounds of crickets covered the silence that followed the chime.

"Well, that's new," Piper mumbled, looking over at the clock. "Usually that thing is too damn rattled by demon vanquishes to chime." Leo smiled and wrapped an arm around his wife. Piper's thin lips cracked a smile and she sighed, her shoulders sagging. "Right: now, Pearson…"

"Did you fix that clock?" Anakin whispered.

Wyatt shook his head. "I'm not that good at healing inanimate objects."

"Bizarre." Anakin mumbled.

Wyatt turned around; they were almost to their goal. Another step forward and Wyatt's tennis shoe sole made contact with the first creaky step. He placed his full weight on the step, cringing at the whine of old wood under stress. The Twice-Blessed witch finished the criminal act and looked up, readying to bring his left foot up and onto the second and final step before the small square platform that led to the actual staircase.

"And where do you think you're running off to?" Piper interrogated, turning around. Her scrutinizing brown eyes x-rayed the guilty party, waiting for a response. "Well?"

"Uh…" Wyatt opened his mouth and jumped as a rush of wind washed over him. The blond spun around to glimpse a large oak door, frame included, slide into place on the wall facing the parlor. The small specs of disturbed dust barely started to settle when the door burst open. Mrs. Winterbourne strode through the door, hair flapping behind her. Her Magical School robes cut through the air and trailed behind her with a swooshing sound. She came to a stop at the end of the two-foot wide platform, her pointed-toe shoes teetering over the edge. She placed her hands on her hips and faced a stunned Leo with a determined look on her face.

"Alexa!" exclaimed Leo, regaining the ability to speak. He stood up and moved to greet the unexpected visitor. "Is something wrong?"

"Yes." Mrs. Winterbourne said.

Without another word she straightened her arm away from her chest, her palm facing Leo. A burst of telekinetic energy sent Leo flying helplessly backwards until he crashed into the famous grandfather clock. Leo's limp body slid down the wall to join the pile of splinters, shards of glass, and disfigured metal rods. The blonde-grey witch lowered her hand.

"I'm sick of taking orders from you, Headmaster." She smiled in triumph.

"Hey!" Piper jumped to her feet, her hands raised at chest height, fingers posed to release the destructive magical power building up in the annoyed witch's palm. "What the hell is _your_ problem, bitch?"

"Bitch?" Mrs. Winterbourne turned to face the Halliwell matriarch. Whereas most in the magical community would have quaked in their boots, Mrs. Winterbourne stood firm with a sly grin on her face. "I'll have you know, _Piper_, that I taught your great-grandmother."

"Still doesn't give you the right to come into _my_ home and attack_ my_ husband," Piper said, tone reflecting her cool.

"No?" The professor waved her hand once again. Piper went flying through the air in the direction of the living room.

Chris reacted quickly and motioned with his hand. One of the couches jumped to life and caught Piper in her forceful descent toward the ground. Piper's body bounced against the soft cushions and tumbled into the room, unconscious. Chris's breathing quickened. He turned his back on the upsetting scene and instead focused his green eyes on the cause of the sudden chaos. "What's gotten into you, Mrs. Wint—"

"Nothing," snapped the half-elf in a tone full of venom. Chris recoiled. "Nothing has gotten into me, Christopher. I'm just finally expressing myself."

Prue, being the mild-mannered one of the family, took a step forward, pushing aside Chris's hand. "Could you not find a more productive way to express yourself, Mrs. Winterbourne?" She asked as sweetly as she could under the circumstances.

The old witch's eyes softened for a brief instant. In that instance, fear and sorrow clearly shone through the welling tears. But the moment passed and the proud professor collapsed to the floor, gripping her head and pulling at her hair as she shook her head vigorously. Then all went still and Prue took a cautious step forward. Mrs. Winterbourne's head shot up, her eyes hard and cold. Prue was thrown across the room and through one of the stained-glass windows. The brothers were in partial shock at the turn of events. They were down three family members and their opponent, obviously possessed, had not even broken into sweat yet.

"You need to fight it, Mrs. Winterbourne," urged Anakin. "This isn't you."

"I don't want to fight it," the elderly witch stated, climbing gracefully back to her feet without aid of the rails. "For the first time in my life, I'm free."

"And evil," hissed Wyatt, raising his shield. Wyatt's tone softened once the protective barrier cut off his family from the possessed professor. "I know you, Mrs. Winterbourne, and you're not evil." The teen's voice turned pleading. "Come on: remember all those younglings who need you. Fight this, Mrs. Winterbourne."

Mrs. Winterbourne's breathing quickened and her movements became shaky and jumpy. In a soft, whimpering voice she mumbled, "I don't – don't make – no."

Wyatt glanced over his shoulder. "She's fighting it." He was relieved.

"For how long, though," Anakin wondered, looking at the struggling woman. Mrs. Winterbourne was clutching the rail and struggling down the two steps below the platform. "Whoever is doing this will be in control once again before long."

"Not if we block him," Chris said urgently. "There's got to be a way to do that.

"A spell," Wyatt suggested. "What if we write a Power of Three spell?"

"Power of Four," Pearson butted in. "There are four of us here."

"Right," Wyatt grinned, giving Pearson's shoulder a squeeze. "My apologies."

Anakin bit his lip. In a low whisper he said mostly to himself, "It'd be easier to just vanquish her."

"Not an option," Wyatt declared, rounding on the one-armed witch.

"Wasn't suggesting it was," Anakin clarified hastily. "I'm just saying we know nothing about the demon doing this. Spells usually need to be demon-specific."

"Well, we'd better figure this out quickly," Lucien warned, pointing in the direction of the stairs. "'Cause here she comes."

Mrs. Winterbourne's grey eyes had glazed over, a faint sharp brown flickering amongst the grey. A faint red swan appeared on her right cheek, glowing angrily, but faded just as quickly as it appeared. She raised her hand. Debris and loose objects in between the professor and the guarded group of witches whipped around and out of sight as if being chucked aside by a powerful tornado. Then, the non-existent tornado hit Wyatt's blue shield. Wyatt's breath came in short gasps and his face turned red as he strained to maintain the shield. Mrs. Winterbourne raised her other hand and the wooden floor rattled, dangerously close to dislodging itself from the cement beneath. Wyatt's face was now a pale aubergine, and his eyes flattened shut for a moment. That momentary loss of consciousness caused the bowl-shaped blue shield to shatter like crystal. Shards of the broken energy shield were driven into the wall behind the five young men.

Mrs. Winterbourne lowered both hands and clutched one tightly into a fist, her nails drawing blood from her own palm. Wyatt, still trying to recover from his recent blackout, due to lack of oxygen, once again found himself starved of life-giving air. His throat constricted and he instinctively clawed at the invisible force that was strangling him.

"NO!" Anakin shouted in anger.

His hand glowed a furious orange-yellow and a wave of similarly colored energy jumped out of his palm. The wave of visible energy tore apart everything in its path as it moved to eliminate Mrs. Winterbourne. The half-elf stared in surprise at the attack, dropping Wyatt moments before he would have passed out. Wyatt gasped and coughed on the floor as Mrs. Winterbourne snapped her finger and the wave reversed its course. Anakin automatically grabbed Pearson's hand, crushing the younger boy's fingers.

"Focus," Anakin commanded.

Pearson nodded, ignoring the pain pounding out of his crushed fingers. The eight-year-old raised his free hand in defiance of the fiery wall of energy. In his palm, a dark, black-blue shadow formed at the same time as Anakin closed his eyes and the interlocked hands of the two young men started to glow. The wave dispersed, washing over the teens as a gentle breeze of fine debris. Pearson glared at the blonde-grey haired witch and sent her flying into a wall. The young boy waved his hand again and the witch was flung over the group into the sunroom. Anakin let go of Pearson's hand the moment the wave had dissipated. He had rushed to Wyatt and started to heal his swollen throat.

"Alright?" Anakin inquired once Wyatt was breathing easily again. Wyatt nodded, rubbing his neck gingerly. Anakin stood up and turned to face the sunroom. "Enough playing around," he said coldly.

"Anakin," Wyatt coughed, pushing himself back onto his feet. In a purely rational tone, the sixteen-year-old said, "We can't just murder a Magic School professor."

"Why the hell not!" Anakin rebutted, his temper rising. "She's certainly not hesitating to kill us, Wyatt. We can't keep fending her off. She freaking shattered your shield, without breaking into sweat to boot!"

Chris glanced into the sunroom but still Mrs. Winterbourne did not show herself. "What if she's not the one fighting? I mean, Mrs. Winterbourne is a powerful witch, but she should be nothing against the Charmed Ones."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Pearson questioned. In still a very confused voice, he continued, "You think she's a puppet or something?"

"Exactly," Chris declared, returning his focus to his brothers. "It' wouldn't be the first time some demon's used those we love against us."

"What demon has that type of power, though?" Wyatt wondered aloud. "It's one thing to telepathically influence someone: it's quite another to possess them, especially with powers intact."

"Jonathan," Lucien whispered, his anger evident. "He's done it before." The curly haired teen got only quizzical looks in response, so he explained. "He possessed Anakin for a short period."

"He what!" Anakin's eyes grew large with fear, but the fear was quickly replaced with hatred.

"Never mind that," Wyatt quickly stopped Anakin's rant. He turned to face the young elemental. "What makes you think this is Jonathan now, Lucien?"

"Why wouldn't it be him?" Lucien argued. "He's been quiet for a while and then all of a sudden everything starts happening. If that's not a master plan at work then I don't know what is."

"But why use Mrs. Winterbourne?" Pearson asked.

"To distract us," Chris mumbled, his eyes glancing back to the sunroom. "All the events today have been distractions. Right? So why not this one?"

Anakin opened his mouth to answer when Mrs. Winterbourne suddenly attacked, tackling Pearson to the floor before disappearing. The large heavy stone vase jumped up from its fallen position next to the unconscious Leo and hurtled toward Chris. Chris orbed in and out, avoiding the bone-crushing projectile, but Lucien was not so lucky. The vase crashed into the side of his head and the momentum cracked the curly-haired boy's skull. The severely injured Lucien spun around, collapsing in a limp heap on the floor, a growing puddle of dark red blood surrounding him. Wyatt dropped to his knees, hands already glowing with the pale golden light that accompanied his healing power.

Anakin stood up, his eyes blazing with fury. "Don't ever," he flicked his wrists and Mrs. Winterbourne was thrown head over heels backwards, a faint red shield protecting her from complete annihilation, "do that," he repeated the action, "AGAIN!" He waved his hand and the small metal side table that sat in the corner of the sunroom slammed onto the helpless woman's back, pinning her to the floor.

Anakin glared at the woman, all his anger and frustration that had been boiling up the entire day finally finding a release. The table creaked and slowly started to smother the unconscious woman. The sound of bones cracking echoed across the almost silent Manor. Suddenly, Pearson's soft hand touched his elbow, and the table paused in its crushing descent.

"Don't, Annie," Pearson pleaded. "Just don't."

Anakin saw the fear and concern in Pearson's blue eyes and his own eyes immediately softened. He waved his hand and the table collapsed harmlessly next to the bloodied teacher. Anakin looked at Pearson. "I won't let him win again, Pearson." Before Pearson could respond, the one-armed blond strode over to the professor and bent down, bouncing slightly at his knees to keep his balance. In a deadly calm whisper, he spoke to the knocked-out Magic School professor. "You better start fighting this, Mrs. Winterbourne, because I won't allow you to destroy _my family_."

Mrs. Winterbourne's eyes fluttered open and she blindly stared up at Anakin. "Help me!" She screamed, and the swan tattoo reappeared on her cheek, glowing a fierce evil red. The stench of burning flesh caused Anakin's eyes to water but he remained mere inches away from Mrs. Winterbourne's seared cheek. Black, tar-like blood boiled out of the wound momentarily, obscuring the red glow. Mrs. Winterbourne's voice became hoarse as she continued her ear-piercing screech.

"Pearson," Anakin twisted his neck to find the younger boy. "Get Chris."

"Why?" Pearson asked softly, nervously glancing between his future self and Mrs. Winterbourne.

"If this is a demonic possession we need the Power of Three." Anakin explained, unable to keep his tone entirely void of the fuming turmoil that was swirling in his mind.

Pearson disappeared into the living room. Anakin watched the professor, who, clearly, no longer knew he was even in the room; he studied the burning tattoo, taking in every detail. Finally, he moved his attention to Mrs. Winterbourne's wellbeing. She was fighting something: that much was clear to Anakin. But she was awfully pale, and her scream had become a pantomime. The physical agony was vividly displayed as she contorted as if in the throws of a slow-motion epileptic fit. The mental torture shone clearly through her tear-soaked eyes.

As emotionally stirring the scene should have been, Anakin could not marshal his thought to feel pity for the innocent that lay before him. To him, she was a threat to his family, and if she attacked again, he would call for her heart, consequences be damned. The disturbing thought trail was cut short by the appearance of Chris and Pearson.

"Do you have a spell?" Chris inquired, looking down at the black-robed professor with empathy.

"No," Anakin stated. "But I doubt a spell will help us, anyway."

"Then, what are we going to do?" Chris asked, studying Anakin and trying to picture what was going on in his younger brother's mind.

"We break the demon's connection to her," Anakin stated softly but nonetheless made it clear he was not backing away from the option.

"How do you do that?" Pearson asked, completely clueless.

All the blood drained from Chris's face. "Not happening, Anakin." He stated in a sharp tone.

"What?" Pearson piped up, getting annoyed at being ignored.

"Look," Anakin said coolly he stood up and walked over to Chris. "Unless you know for a fact exactly which demon is pulling the strings on your girlfriend over there, this is our only option."

"_What_ is our only option?" Pearson pushed himself between the two older boys, elbowing them to get their attention.

Chris ruffled Pearson's hair. "I'm not doing it, Anakin. It's against the rules."

"Screw the rules, Christopher!" Anakin snapped, going toe-to-toe with the slightly taller fourteen-year-old.

"These aren't just arbitrary boundaries the Elders set up to make our lives difficult, Anakin," Chris retorted with equal hostility.

"What are you talking about?" Pearson was ready to kick his brothers in the shins, or worse, in order to get them to notice him.

Chris backed down first from the mounting argument. With a sigh and a much more appealing tone, he requested, "Let's at least try writing a spell."

Anakin laughed. Too much was at stake for them to be playing by the rules. He had not killed Mrs. Winterbourne but he was not about to give her another chance to kill them. "Chris, if Jonathan was able to telepathically influence someone inside _Magic School_, no way is a spell, even a Power of Three one, going to break that connection." Anakin let out a slow, calming breath before continuing. "If she's possessed now as well, there's no hope. Only her inner strength can beat a possession."

Wyatt, helping along a still groggy Lucien, joined the circle. "So let's give her a boost."

"No," Chris turned to face Wyatt. "You know what that means. Wyatt, we can't do that to someone."

Wyatt glanced down at Mrs. Winterbourne, who had stopped convulsing and was now mumbling to herself and was curled up into the fetal position around the feet of the table Anakin had almost crushed her with. "I somehow think Mrs. Winterbourne will forgive us, Chris."

Chris bit his lip; his conviction was faltering. "It's—"

"Our only choice," Anakin stated, losing some of his iciness. "Chris, come on! You know that this is the _right_ thing to do."

Chris's teeth let go of his bottom lip. With still an unconvinced look plastered on his face he nodded, once. "Fine: but no messing around." He looked at Anakin and facially showed he was not happy with this idea. "We're in only for as long as it takes to break the connection between her and the demon."

"Agreed," Wyatt stated, depositing Lucien against the threshold between the sunroom and the parlor. The oldest Charmed descendent reached out for Chris hand. Chris reluctantly returned the gesture; Wyatt gave the hand an encouraging squeeze. "Ready, Pearson?" Wyatt said, looking over at the youngest of his brothers.

Pearson frowned. "For what, Wy?"

"To take a trip into someone's mind," Anakin answered, placing a reassuring hand on Pearson's shoulder.

"Wait," Pearson shot Wyatt and Chris a concerned look. "We can do that?"

"Not _we_," Chris started, still glaring at Anakin.

"You," Wyatt finished. He went on to explain, "Chris and I aren't that advanced in telepathy."

Pearson gulped. "Me? But I've never tried this before."

"It's alright," Anakin gave Pearson's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You just need to follow my lead."

"And what are they going to do?" Pearson asked, clearly frightened.

"Provide us with their support and also an anchor to this world," Anakin elucidated. He looked up at Lucien. "And Lucien is going to cover us." Lucien, still leaning heavily against the threshold, nodded in understanding. Anakin gazed directly into Pearson's eyes. "Everything will be just fine, Pearson."

Pearson let out a rattling breath. "So," he took another deep breath, "we'll go into her brain?"

"Her mind," Anakin corrected. "A brain is an organ."

Pearson frowned. "Alright, _mind_. What happens if we mess up?"

Anakin did not quite meet Pearson's worried gaze. "That won't happen."

Wyatt took Pearson's right hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Pearson. You'll be great."

"But what if I mess up?" Pearson asked, shaking with nerves.

Anakin bent down and stared his past self in the eyes. "Pearson, I'm talking from personal experience: we're one of the best telepaths alive. We've got to try this."

"What happens if we mess up?" Pearson asked a bit more forcefully.

Anakin took a deep breath. "We can wipe her entire memory."

"Anakin," rebuked Wyatt gently.

"I can handle it," Anakin mildly snapped. "I'd need to know." Pearson's nod only confirmed what Anakin voiced. Anakin returned his focus to Pearson's blue eyes. "She could whined-up brain dead. But there is only a slim chance of that happening, Pearson."

Pearson closed his eyes and his face became blank. In a determined voice, Pearson asked, "Annie? How do we do this?"

Sighing, relieved, he replied, "Like this." Anakin placed his hand back on Pearson's shoulder.

A blue glow started at Chris and flowed through Wyatt and into Pearson. Pearson gasped as the power coursed through his veins, lighting up his blood vessels. The glow collected under Anakin's palm. It dissipated as Mrs. Winterbourne's body rose into the air. Her temples started to glow as if a light by a flashlight from the inside. Anakin tightened his grip on Pearson's shoulder.

"Alright, Pearson," Anakin whispered, "just follow my lead."

Pearson gulped. "Whatever you say, Annie."

"_Alexa,_" Anakin telepathically stated, "_y__ou need to fight this_."

"Help me!" Mrs. Winterbourne screamed, although her mouth barely moved and she started to convulse once again. "Please! This hurts – it hurts!" Her voice was desperate and strained.

Anakin's remained apathetic. "_You need to fight back, Alexa_. _I know it hurts, but I can't help you until he's gone_."

"He's strong," the professor shrieked; her eyes rolled back wildly into her head, giving her the possessed look made famous by cheaply-made TV movies. "He won't allow me... Help me!"

Pearson closed his eyes and started to look away.

"NO!" Anakin barked. "Don't break the connection, Pearson." Pearson's cheeks turned red and tears welled in his eyes. "We're winning, Pearson," he said more softly, still keeping his eyes on Mrs. Winterbourne, "just a few more minutes."

"_Alexa, the demon: don't listen to him. Listen to me. Focus on my voice_." Anakin implored. "_Then I can stop the pain_. _But first you need to fight_. _I can't do this on my own; I need your help to free you_."

"He's so strong," Mrs. Winterbourne's voice was barely audible, the blood no longer existent in her face. She looked as if she was on her deathbed, seconds away from passing on into the beyond. "I can't do this."

"_YES YOU CAN_!" Anakin commanded, his eyes growing wide. "I won't let you hurt my family." He focused again. "_I'm here, Alexa, use me as an anchor. Fight against him. Take back control."_

"He wants me to hurt – to kill," the blonde woman whimpered. "His voice is so loud."

"_NO!_" Anakin all but screamed. There was a universal cringe amongst the remaining brothers. "_Fight that impulse, Alexa. You're better than this_. _Fight for your freedom, fight for the children. Who's going to look after them if you give in? Who will foster the next generation?_"

The tattoo dimmed. Anakin's eyes flashed and a spark flew out of the stump of his arm at the terrified witch. It hit her with enough force to break the remaining windows. Anakin broke the connection with Pearson and ran forward, ignoring the dull thump of Mrs. Winterbourne landing on the floor. The blond witch reached the window and flicked his wrists. There was a yell and a massive fireball sent Anakin diving for cover.

Lucien ran forward. "You OK?"

Anakin nodded, clutching his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm fine." He hissed in pain. "It was the freaking driver."

Lucien helped Anakin to his feet and the two made their way over to Mrs. Winterbourne. "Is she ok?" Anakin asked, still rubbing his badly bruised shoulder.

Wyatt finished, dropping his hand to his side. "She's mentally exhausted but otherwise uninjured."

"Good," Anakin sighed and slumped into the white wicker chair. "Go heal Mom, Prue, and Dad."

Wyatt stopped his approach. "And you?"

"I'll survive a few more minutes of pain," Anakin grimaced.

Chris, recently finished orbing Mrs. Winterbourne to the spare bedroom, looked around the room. "What a mess."

"Mom's gonna freak," Pearson giggled anxiously.

"You did great," Anakin said with a smile. "Much better than I did my first time."

Pearson smiled appreciatively. "What'd you do?"

"I accidentally wiped Chris's memory." Anakin grinned sheepishly.

"You what!" Chris said with a broad grin.

"Oh, Dad healed you up in a jiff," Anakin stated nonchalantly. "But Mom blew such a gasket – I was never more afraid for my survival in my entire life."

Pearson sat down next to Anakin, exhausted. "What did she do?"

"She grounded me for a month and had Wyatt not botched the stripping potion she would have stripped my powers." Anakin laughed in remembrance. "Chris didn't speak to me for a week."

"For good reason," Chris half-defended his future self.

"But in the end," Anakin sighed and closed his eyes, "everything worked out and the demon of the week was vanquished, albeit without my help."

Piper came through the threshold then. "Wow! That lady packs quite a punch."

"Mom!" Pearson jumped to his feet and gave Piper a tight hug. "It was so cool. We—"

"Ah, Pearson," interrupted Wyatt, "let's spare Mom the details."

Piper gave her oldest offspring a quizzical look. "Fine; did we figure out what turned the nursery maid into a rabid killing machine?"

"Yes," Anakin stated. "It was the same guy who crashed into us."

Piper nodded slowly. "Alright, so where's the Book? Let's go."

"Um," Anakin glanced at his brothers, "not tonight, Mom."

"This guy's not going to—" Piper started.

"We know Mom," Wyatt said gently. "It's just … this guy is strong."

"And we're not at our best," Chris continued. "No way in hell should we be going into the Underworld at this moment."

Piper breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright then; off to bed, all of you."

"What about the Loves and Mitchells?" Pearson inquired through a yawn.

Piper stroked the hair of her youngest. "We'll have to postpone Lucien's birthday bash for a day."

The brothers started toward their respective bedrooms. In a low whisper Wyatt said, "You realize Mom just tricked us into not going after a demon, right?"

Anakin nodded. "And a big part of me is grateful." He yawned, and then cringed when he moved his shoulder in the wrong direction. "Mind healing this before I head off to bed, Wy?"

Wyatt placed a single hand over Anakin's shoulder and a second later, removed it to reveal a perfectly healed shoulder. "Can't we at least—"

"Wyatt," Anakin spoke over his older brother, "I know how hard it is for you to realize this, but I'm tired. I just battled off a demon stronger than Zankou. You go research to your heart's content, but I, for once, am following Mom's orders."

Chris nodded. "Yeah, Wyatt: one night is not going to kill us."

"Don't jinx it," Prue mumbled, covering her yawning mouth.

"See you all in the morning," Anakin said, pulling Lucien along with him.

"Night," the four siblings chorused back amongst chuckles.

Lucien wrapped his arm around Anakin. "Another Halliwell birthday come and gone."

"You've lived through two already," Anakin muttered, trying not to yawn. "It's more than most non-family have."

Lucien leaned in and kissed Anakin. "Well, I wouldn't have it any other way."

The two separated when they reached the bottom of the stairs and each headed off to their own beds.

_Gabriel, hood off, held a single blade in his left hand and a massive shield with majestic Seraphim engraved into its bronze front. His disfigured face was contorted with rage, and for good reason. All around him lay the bodies of friends and allies. Most had large black arrows piercing their bodies, while others were missing large chunks of body, the wounds still spewing out acrid smoke. But they were not the only bodies covering the white marble floor. Scattered amongst the dead Elders and whitelighters were their enemies. Piles of ash marked where demons and darklighters had been vanquished. But not all the darklighters were lucky enough to be taken up in flames, and blobs of black leather were interdispersed amongst the sea of metallic gold._

"_I always hoped I would be the one to recycle you, Gabriel." Brendan chuckled._

_The brown-haired demon was covered in blood and scorch marks. His warm brown eyes were bloodshot, which only added to Brendan's ability to strike terror in his victims. The darklighter held a long, fiery whip which snaked alongside him._

"_Who ever said you would be the victor in this duel, Brendan?" Gabriel inquired regally._

_Brendan laughed. "My, my: as cocky as ever. You never cease to amaze, old friend."_

"_Friend?" Gabriel's remaining eye flashed and the sword glowed. "You have some nerve to stand there and still call me that, Brendan."_

"_But that is what we were," Brendan said. "At least, before you decided that I was going to upset the precious balance. You betrayed me, Gabriel; what did you expect me to do? I was not going to quietly allow you to murder me."_

_Gabriel growled. "You were turning evil, Brendan: you gave me no choice."_

"_I was not turning evil," Brendan implored. "I was taking back my right to free will. Or have you forgotten that is what we were supposed to be protecting? The Powers, in all their glory, needed a reminder, and I was the chosen one."_

"_You were never the chosen one," Gabriel shouted. "You were a selfish pig!"_

_Brendan shook his head sadly. "You always lacked the will to see the Grand Design, Gabriel: that was your downfall. Just like my love for you was mine."_

_Gabriel lashed out. Brendan spun around and his fiery whip surrounded his body like a shield, impeding the Elder's progress. "But now I no longer have that disadvantage, Gabriel."_

_Brendan flicked his wrist and the whip struck out, wrapping itself around Gabriel's right arm and burning deep wounds into the lower arm until it burned through the bone. Gabriel refused to scream out in agony but could not stop himself from cringing. The sword clanged as it tumbled to the floor. The Elder was momentarily overtaken by pain, but then his arm glowed, and a new, unharmed lower arm and hand re-grew in its place._

"_You've gained a few more tricks in the last few millennia," Brendan stated, allowing his weapon to re-curl itself on the ground beside him. "I'm impressed."_

_Gabriel shouted an animalistic war cry as he raised his hand and a massive bolt of lightning erupted from his fingers. Brendan tried to bring his whip to bear, but the lightning struck before he had a chance. The darklighter was thrown across the ground, still connected to the Elder by the bolts of electricity. The brown-haired demon's skeleton flashed through his skin as he was electrocuted alive. His entire body convulsed as he screamed in pain. His hair began to smoke, and his eyes began to boil. All the while, Gabriel glared at the darklighter, slowly closing the gap between them._

"_I'll kill you, Brendan." Gabriel whispered. "I don't make the same mistake twice."_

"_No," Jonathan suddenly orbed into the heavens, "but you make brand new ones."_

_The Source chucked a small fireball into the chest of the shocked Elder and the electrocution of Brendan stopped. Gabriel landed in a heaving heap a few meters from where he had been standing. Jonathan casually walked over to Brendan and helped the badly burned darklighter to his feet._

"_You are allowing personal feelings to influence you, Brendan." Jonathan hissed. "Don't do it again."_

"_Sorry," Brendan mumbled. He then started to scream in pain as Jonathan ripped off a part of the burnt flesh. Underneath the smoking lump of lifeless flesh lay new raw skin._

"_Hurry up and get rid of the rest," Jonathan snapped. "Unless you would rather I kill the last Elder?"_

"_No!" Brendan yelled as he ripped off another large chunk of his own flesh. Breathing heavily, he continued, "I want this kill, Jonathan."_

_Jonathan glanced down at the Elder, who still had not climbed to his feet, and then glared back at the darklighter. "Fine, but hurry up. Hellequin's distraction came to an end sooner than I had hoped it would. The Halliwells may very well be on their way up here."_

_Brendan pulled off the last bit of burnt flesh, enjoying the pain as the cells tore apart. He bared his vampire fangs in satisfaction. "Do not worry, Jonathan; this will all be over soon."_

"_I hope so." Jonathan orbed out._

_Brendan cracked his neck and flexed his fingers and he picked up his extinguished whip and ignited it once more. "Time for you to die, old friend."_

_Gabriel, suddenly able to move again, staggered to his feet, bringing his metal shield up just in time to cover his back from Brendan's deadly whip. Gabriel scrambled away and shot short sparks at Brendan, who steadily closed the gap between himself and the Elder. Gabriel closed his one eye and a look of pain crossed over his face. Suddenly, the entire ground beneath both of their feet shook, throwing both beings off their feet. Gabriel slammed his hand against the ground and a massive pillar of marble shot out of the floor beneath Brendan, sending the darklighter flying into the cloud-filled sky._

_Brendan landed in a heap and jumped to his feet, hissing. Gabriel's eye flashed, and the bodies of his fallen comrades rose from their deathbeds and started hurtling themselves at the darklighter. Brendan yelled out in frustration and a bubble of telekinetic energy swept away the battering dead bodies. He raised his hand and a darklighter bow dark orbed into it, and he fired off an arrow. Gabriel gestured with a gnarled hand and the arrow burst apart. The next second, the bow followed the fate of the arrow, sending Brendan stumbling to the ground._

_Gabriel raised his hand once again and Brendan's entire body became rigid. The darklighter snarled something incomprehensible as he struggled against his invisible bindings. The golden-haired Elder continued to keep the darklighter pinned down as he retrieved his sword._

"_You can't kill me," Brendan sneered in fury. "It'll kill you as well."_

_Gabriel nodded passively. "Better I die, than you destroy the Balance."_

_Gabriel raised his sword and drove it down at Brendan's neck. The darklighter howled in desperation and his hand suddenly caught hold of Gabriel's leg. Without thinking, Brendan increased his pressure and his long claw-like nails sunk themselves deep into the soft tissue of Gabriel's lower leg. The pain caused Gabriel's concentration to falter and Brendan dark orbed out of the way of the sword. Gabriel's momentum forced the Elder to continue with the now useless strike and the blade struck the marble with enough force as to shatter the metal and marble alike._

"_Pain's a bitch," Brendan hissed in Gabriel's ear before slamming a kick into the Elder's kidney._

_Gabriel landed face first on the hard marble, breaking his already disfigured nose. Brendan was on top of him in an instant, driving his claws into Gabriel's back. Gabriel bit back his screams of pain and used the energy to motivate his muscles to move. The Elder sprang back to his feet, dislodging the much heavier and taller darklighter. The Elder swept his hand across the area in front of him and a massive chunk of the marble floor broke itself out of the ground._

"_No escaping this time, Brendan." Gabriel said, snapping his fingers._

_Small conical shaped chips of marble rose into the air, and Gabriel directed them without a twitch of a muscle. They raced forward and drove themselves into the palms of the darklighter. Another two chips hammered their way through the bones of Brendan's feet, leaving him pinned down as if hung from a cross. Brendan was screaming in anger and pain._

"_No mercy." Gabriel muttered to himself. _

_He brought the massive boulder over Brendan. _

"_You vanquish me, and you can kiss the heavens goodbye!" Brendan yelled in anger and desperation._

"_Goodbye," Gabriel stated wearily and sighed. In a soft whisper he continued, "Old friend."_

_The boulder dropped, and a massive, roaring flash blocked everything from view._


	14. Scared of You

Scared of You

Anakin woke up, thankfully, not screaming this time, but nevertheless, he was covered in tiny droplets of sweat, and shaking with unused adrenaline. He had gotten used to this chain of events: he would dream about some horrible act done by Jonathan, or one of his converts, and then he would awaken soaked in sweat, his heart racing as if he had sprinted a mile. This time, though, the act was not just the slaughter of a witch coven or a congregation of rebellious warlocks. This time – this time, magic was forever altered. This time, it was not just a small portion of the universe that would feel the effects of Jonathan's actions. This time, the consequences would be felt worldwide. Life, as magical beings knew it, was officially over.

Wyatt orbed into the room then, clothed only in his boxers and his hair dripping wet. "What's wrong?"

Anakin gave Wyatt a quizzical look. "Glad you at least put boxers on, Wy," he wryly greeted, trying to divert the question he knew his brother had come to ask.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Come on, Anakin; I know you had one of your dreams." This had also become a nightly occurrence. For reasons he would not tell Anakin, Wyatt always knew when he had one of his visions.

"And how do you know that?" Anakin inquired, feeling strangely self-conscious. He suspected Wyatt had found a way to enter his mind, and that left him feeling helpless and grateful, but mostly fearful. If Wyatt could get in, who else could?

Wyatt shook his head. "I don't read your dreams, Annie: just your emotions."

"Oh," Anakin sighed in relief, but still outwardly kept the defensive posture, "that makes it so much better." The sarcasm slipped through in torrents.

"Get over it," Wyatt stated impatiently. "I'm your older brother and I'm allowed to worry, OK? Now, what did you see?"

"The heavens being vanquished," Anakin said, not quite believing himself. The shock was slowly setting in. The reality that "Up There" no longer existed and that the majority of its inhabitants were destroyed, never to be recycled back into the cosmos. Their knowledge and magic, lost forever in the timeless void that was created by the destruction of Brendan. That had been the fallen Power That Be's name; Anakin would remember that for all eternity.

"What?" Wyatt choked in shock. "Are – are you serious!"

"Yes," Anakin nodded. Even in his own head his voice sounded hollow, lacking any form of emotion. "There were bodies everywhere, and then Gabriel vanquished this one hell of a darklighter, Brendan, and then everything went white. The noise was," he struggled for the right word, "horrific. Squelching, explosions, rushing..." he trailed off, shaking his head. His ears rang with remembrance of the torture they had been put through.

"But..." Wyatt stammered, "That's impossible. They can't all be…"

As much as the Halliwells despised the Elders and what they had done to the family, they certainly understood on some level the important part the "guardian angels" played. "What are we going to do?" Wyatt asked softly. "I mean, they're gone – all those witches out there without a whitelighter – oh my God, Anakin, can you imagine?"

"Wyatt," Anakin said softly, "we need to tell Dad."

"That is a brilliant plan," said Benjamin orbing in clutching a bleeding and shredded arm. "But first I need a little help."

Wyatt went over and started to heal Benjamin's arm. "How'd you escape?"

"I was lucky," Benjamin stated. "Gabriel was able to orb me to one of our bunkers before the main wave reached the heavens."

"Are there any more?" Anakin inquired, climbing out of bed.

Benjamin nodded. "There are a few who escaped. And most of the whitelighter population remains unharmed, but I've grounded all of them until this crisis is over."

Wyatt moved his hand away from the healed arm. "So they did not wipe you out."

"Not yet," Benjamin stated, gingerly testing the mobility of his arm. Satisfied that no lasting damage was done, he lowered his arm and looked back at the two young witches. "But if your family doesn't put an end to this soon, Jonathan will have his way."

"Our family?" Anakin inquired. "What gives you the right to still boss us around, Benjamin?" His voice lacked the usual tenacity and hatred it held when he addressed an Elder.

Benjamin sighed. "Because you know what happens when Jonathan rids the world of Elders and whitelighters. This isn't the Elders' doing, Anakin; this comes from higher up."

"The Powers that Be," Wyatt whispered in mild awe.

"Yes," Benjamin nodded his head somberly. "They fear for their safety or they would not risk exposing themselves."

"Exposing themselves?" Wyatt repeated, looking around the room in sarcasm.

"He means himself," Anakin said, regaining some of his usual iciness. "Both you and Gabriel."

Benjamin seemed to take the lack of sympathy in stride; he had obviously not expected a warm welcome. "We saved Lucien," Benjamin whispered in a deadly tone. "You owe us."

Anakin's blue eyes became slits and he gave the young Elder a death stare. "I – this family," Anakin's voice shook with barely suppressed rage. The blond looked away from the Elder and took a deep breath. "I never said we wouldn't stop Jonathan, Benjamin." The name still came out laced with bitterness and loathing. "But I am not going to do it for you or any of the other crackpots and holier-than-thou meatheads." Benjamin opened his mouth to argue but Anakin glared him into silence. "The Powers that Be lost their right to ask favors from this family after what you put Mom and Dad through."

Benjamin's eyes flashed. "We," he paused, and in a fashion similar fashion to Anakin, reigned in his fury. He started to talk again but Anakin heard little of it.

The blond climbed out of his bed and over to his dresser, blatantly disrespecting the Elder. He noisily pulled open the doors and ruffled through his t-shirts, socks, and boxers until he found the single white v-neck undershirt. With his back turned to the still talking Elder, he pulled the shirt over his clammy chest. As he turned around, he spoke over the Elder's angry mumblings. "You guys interpreted your own goddamn prophecy wrong. So don't start with the excuses and hurt comments, Benjamin. You all deserve to have your mortality thrown back in your face."

"Gabriel died saving you from..."

Anakin shook his head. "Gabriel died for not finishing the job earlier. I saw it all, Benjamin." He paused, and then in a dark, low tone continued, "I felt it. You guys would like everyone to believe that you are all good, benevolent, never-wavering beings. I know the truth. I _know_ that Gabriel wavered; I _know_ that Brendan was one of you. So don't go making excuses, because … I don't care."

"How," Benjamin took a threatening step toward Anakin.

Anakin looked into the fuming Elder's eyes without the slightest hint of a flinch. "Go hide in the bunkers like the sniveling coward you are, Benjamin. My family and I have to go clean up your mess … _again_."

Benjamin scowled and lividly orbed out of the room, not risking another word. With the Elders and Power-That-Be gone, Anakin dropped the determined and unfazed guise, slumping onto his bed with fear evident in his eyes.

"I know we don't like those guys," Wyatt started gently, "but what was with the attitude?"

Anakin shrugged and allowed his head to drop into the awaiting hand already resting on his knee. "I'm a Halliwell, Wy: we don't let go of grudges easily."

"For what they did to Mom and Dad?" Wyatt asked, slightly confused. He sat down next to the obviously exhausted young man.

"Yes, that as well. But more for," Anakin took a deep breath, "for what they did to me. They saved Lucien because they feared I'd be the great evil in the prophecy."

"So they're the reason you went AWOL," Wyatt stated, but it came out more as a question.

Anakin further smothered his face in his hand. "Among other things, let's leave it at they didn't help matters."

"So now what?" Wyatt inquired uselessly, awkwardly wavering on placing a comforting hand on Anakin's rounded shoulders.

"Why is it I'm the one who always has to come with the plans?" Anakin joked, looking up; Wyatt quickly dropped his hand onto his lap and forced a smile. "I am still five years younger than you, you know."

Wyatt ruffled Anakin's hair subconsciously. Wyatt nibbled on his lip and started to think out loud in a very slow and calculated tone, "Well, none of our efforts to locate Jonathan have been very successful."

"True," Anakin muttered, laying back on his bed and letting out a stress-filled sigh.

"So let's try and find the demon that attacked here," Wyatt suggested, in a very questioning tone.

Anakin placed his hands behind his head, pondering the valid option. He moved his head side to side. "Only problem is," he paused and licked his lips, buying some more time to think, "that this guy's most likely going to be hidden by the same protections Jonathan is."

"But we've got something of the demon's that we don't have with Jonathan," Wyatt said, a grin spreading across his face. "We have his blood."

"We do?" Anakin frowned, wracking his brain for when they had collected some of the demon's blood. Finally settling on the fact that they had not done such a thing, he voiced his concern. "We never collected any of this guy's blood, Wy. Perhaps you're lack of sleep is catching up with you."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Are you telling me that he was thrown through those windows in the sunroom and didn't get a single scratch on him?"

"It's a possibility," Anakin said, not thoroughly believing himself, but he also wanted to defend his point-of-view.

"Not even our family's 'charmed' protection solves that inevitability," Wyatt said, pulling himself off the bed, slapping Anakin on the stomach as he did so.

Anakin jumped at the sudden attack. "What the hell, Wyatt!"

Wyatt chuckled. "Come on, we've just learned that the Elders have been eliminated and you're going to lie in bed pondering the great questions of life?"

Anakin groaned and rolled onto his side in order to sit up. "Let's get the scrying crystals and map, then."

Wyatt waved his hand and the requested materials appeared on the table. "I'll go get the blood."

"Wy," Anakin called out, causing Wyatt to reappear out of the disappearing blue orbs. "Shouldn't we check the Book first?"

Wyatt sighed and nodded. "Have to spoil all the fun don't you, Annie?" He held his hands out, palm-side up. "Book," he called out. The Book of Shadows landed softly in Wyatt's awaiting palms. "Alright," he opened the Book up to a random page, "what did the demon look like?"

"Like," Anakin frowned, deciding on the easiest way to describe the man he had seen. In a light-hearted manner, he verbalized the mental image he had of the demon. The demon had been lying on the grass outside the window, winded and pissed. His longish brown hair had been sprawled across the ground underneath him and his hard brown eyes had burned with fury and humiliation. The demon had not been overtly muscular, and physically lacked any strong definition of muscle. The demon was thin, but not in the awkward-teenager sort of way. Anakin looked at Wyatt, "Like your boy-crush."

Wyatt pulled a face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Anakin's lips curled upward. "Wy, you told me once that you had a fascination with boys who wear tight jeans."

Wyatt shuddered, but his reddening cheeks gave him away. "I was probably trying to relate to you."

"Oh, no," Anakin shook his head and grinned wide enough to show off all his pearly whites. "You had a specific example and everything."

Wyatt's eyes widened. "Who'd I say?"

"Ryan – Rupert – no, no – Tony?" Anakin teased.

"Oh God," Wyatt covered his mouth in shock. His face went from pale white to beet red in less than a second. "A young Ryan Ross?"

"Yeah," Anakin's eyes sparkled with unbridled happiness for the first time since Billie's death. The happiness was there for a second, and then lost to the resoluteness and fear that usually swam in the crystal blue orbs. "That sounds familiar." Anakin kept his tone jovial.

Wyatt laughed at himself as a person would do after hearing a close family member had died suddenly. "How'd you weasel that out of me?"

Anakin shrugged. "It's the whole baby-sibling complex thing."

"The what?" Wyatt inquired with skeptical eyebrows.

Lip trembling and looking at Wyatt with an innocent, almost puppy dog expression, Anakin sniffed and stuttered out as if trying to hold back tears, "T-t-to-today a-a-at sc-school…"

"Alright, alright," Wyatt huffed and started flipping through the yellowing pages of the ancient family text. "I get it. But for the record it means nothing. I'm _straight,_ all the way."

"I've never thought anything else," Anakin said, coming to sit next to Wyatt at the large computer desk. "But a word to the wise: when Mom and Dad decide to start renovating, don't let Chris bunk with you."

"He knows, too," Wyatt slammed the Book shut.

Anakin smiled. "Pinch of memory dust and all was forgiven." Anakin pulled the green-covered book over to his side of the desk. "But on to demons."

"Right," Wyatt muttered, looking around Anakin's room. "So he looks like—"

"Ryan Ross," Anakin prompted, looking up for a moment to gloat.

"Yeah, him," Wyatt frowned. "Anything else you can remember?"

Anakin turned passed the page on Balthazar. "Actually," he flipped back to the infamous page, "now that you mention it, he had a tattoo of a bird."

"A bird?" Wyatt frowned. "Like the Phoenix?"

"No," Anakin shook his head. "The Phoenix have birthmarks. This was a tattoo. It was covered in blood, but I swear it was there. Red, and it seemed to dim slightly when he got close to me."

"Are you sure it wasn't just the blood?" Wyatt inquired.

"I'm sure," Anakin said, getting a little annoyed. "He was as far away from me as you are. I wouldn't have mistaken blood for a goddamn tattoo."

"So it was a bird," Wyatt pushed forward, trying to work passed the sudden tention. "Any particular type, or was it just a generic robin-shaped thing?"

"No," Anakin shut his eyes trying to remember what he had seen. "It was a duck – no, that's not it – it had a long neck…"

"Ostrich?" Wyatt suggested.

"Nope," Anakin bit his lip. "A swan?"

"Are you asking or telling?" Wyatt teased.

Anakin flipped a few more pages in the Book and a picture of a swan flying surrounded by distant flames covered the majority of one of the pages. In curly writing unlike the writing on the majority of the other pages in the Book were the words "THE MARK OF THE ARLECCHINO."

Wyatt glanced at the page. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't look at me," Anakin stated accusingly. "You're the one who has taken Mythology and Demonology."

"Doesn't mean I paid attention," Wyatt muttered, looking at the somehow disturbing picture. "Not when I can just bum the notes off my best friend."

Anakin shook his head. "Taking the easy way out, Wy, is going to land you in some deep crap."

"So, what else is new?" Wyatt inquired. "I pull myself out in the end."

"Whatever," Anakin muttered and turned his attention back to the Book. "Arlecchino?" Anakin tapped his fingers on the wood, thinking. "Why would a demon be called by an Italian name?"

"Italian?" Wyatt sounded out the name. "That's a bit unusual, I guess. But I'm more concerned about the mark part. It's a bit, err … apocalyptic."

"Apocalyptic," Anakin frowned, studying the symbol. "That doesn't sound fun in the least bit."

"No," Wyatt flipped the page, "it doesn't." He flipped another page. "So where's the description?"

Anakin's frown only increased. "There's nothing on it?"

"Not that I can find," Wyatt muttered, continuing to rustle through the pages first to the back of the diagram and then to the front of it.

"Think Pyrrha is still awake?" Anakin inquired jokingly.

"Probably not, Annie," Wyatt stated, closing the Book in frustration. "It's super early still. Hell, the sun's not even begun to think of waking up yet."

Anakin ran his hand through his hair, pulling slightly at the ends. "And you have no idea what this Arlecchino is referring to?"

"No," Wyatt shook his head, then his eyes lit up and he grinned. "But we do live in the twenty-first century."

"So?" Anakin inquired. "This name sounds like it's from the 4th century."

Wyatt chuckled so that his shoulders bounced up and down. "Italian didn't exist in the 4th century, Annie." Anakin gave Wyatt a sardonic glare. "But what I mean is we have the Internet."

Anakin still was hesitant on the subject. "Wy, the Internet isn't always accurate."

"I know that," Wyatt muttered. "It's been drilled into our head every time we write research papers. But it's better than staring helplessly into space until the cows come home."

Anakin relented, his shoulders sagging as he yawned. "Alright…"

Wyatt waved his hand over an area of Anakin's desk and a laptop 'popped' into existence. The blond snapped open the laptop's sliver case, revealing a perfectly kept screen and keyboard.

"So _this_ is why your desktop looks like crap," Anakin muttered, sitting back down on his bed. "Does Mom know you have this?"

"No," Wyatt stated, starting up the laptop. "I'd like it kept that way. A man needs his space sometimes."

"Or his porn," Anakin muttered, and orbed out just in time to miss being bulldozed by his own pillow.

"You just watch it." Wyatt warned.

Anakin rolled his eyes. "Well…"

"Just don't," Wyatt cut Anakin off. "I don't care what you were about to say – just don't."

Anakin closed his mouth. "Fine. Have you found anything yet?"

"Patience," Wyatt muttered as he typed something in something.

The room fell silent, except for the clicks from the depressed keys and soft affirmative jingles. Anakin fell back onto his bed, thinking. The disaster in the heavens aside, his journey to the past was obviously coming to a close; he had no idea how he knew this, but he knew it was true. With that frightening thought, Anakin was barely holding it together despite his casual and determined demeanor. A large part of him—a _very_ large part of him, wanted to just retreat, to run away with his family and allow the world to fall into the hands of Jonathan and his cronies. The future he was from no longer existed, that was confirmed by Gabriel, and the future he had created was unknown. He had no idea what would happen once they reached the fulcrum, but he knew that only one Anakin Pearson Halliwell could exist past that point in time.

Anakin looked at Wyatt and quieted his mind. Wyatt's steady, almost silent breathing was drowned out by the clicks of the keyboard and rustle of the blanket underneath the young blond.

Finally, Anakin got up enough courage to voice his fears. "Wy?"

"Um?" Wyatt sounded, not removing his eyes from the black, white, and blue-gray screen of the laptop.

"What's going to happen when this is all over?" Anakin's voice fell below a whisper, and his throat constricted with insuppressible dread.

The tone was so new to Wyatt that it caused the teen to whip around, his eyes alert. His sudden surge of adrenaline and the ferocity that came with it disappeared quickly and compassion and uncertainty crept into his glistening blue eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Once we've vanquished Jonathan," Anakin looked away and stared up at the formless ceiling of the basement. "What's going to happen to me?"

Wyatt narrowed his eyes, his brow creased. "Why do you ask, Anakin?"

"Well, I mean," Anakin swallowed, his throat dry and his voice betraying his worry. "If Jonathan's dead, then I've done what I came back to do: I saved the family. But it also means I've no reason for still being in the past."

"So we send you to the future," Wyatt said, as if it was the most obvious and normal thing in the world. "And you can enjoy the future you created."

"But what happens to me?" Anakin inquired again. "Pearson and I have two different histories now, Wy. Pearson's like Mom before Aunt Prue died … I'm like you after Prue, our sister, died: fearless and reckless. We're practically beyond opposites."

"You're worried that you'll just disappear into the void?" Wyatt asked, suddenly seeing why his younger, usually unafraid brother was so unsure of himself. "We won't let that happen, Annie."

"What if you don't have a choice?" Anakin asked. "I've been here for almost a year now. And with what happened Up There – Wy, there can't be two of me here forever."

Wyatt brushed his fingertips over the mouse pad to keep the laptop from falling asleep. "There will be something we can do, Annie. We've made the whole thing work up until now; they'll owe us big time once we vanquish Jonathan. The Balance be damned, Annie."

"There's the protective brother I know and love." Anakin said with a forced smile. "Found anything yet?"

Wyatt shook his head. "Still looking through articles."

The room fell silent for a few more minutes. Anakin sank back into his melancholy thoughts when Wyatt brought him back to reality. "Annie?"

"Yeah?" Anakin sat up and looked eagerly at the screen.

"What happened between me and you that made you choose Lucien over Chris and myself?"

Anakin sighed; he had been avoiding this conversation, skillfully finding demons and urgent issues to maneuver himself behind, and let the topic drop. "Nothing, Wy."

"So you killed Chris and me just because we were going to interrogate an innocent?" Wyatt sounded both confused and pained.

"No," Anakin nibbled on his lower lip, "yes." His breaths came in long, agitated intervals, punctuated by his darting eyes. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Wyatt's brow furrowed as he asked incredulously.

"Wy," Anakin pleaded, "it was a split-second decision. I didn't expect to actually kill you. Hell, I didn't _want_ to kill you, but it happened."

Wyatt spun fully around in Anakin's chair and looked the younger blond witch in the eyes. "But you _did_ kill us, Annie. And I just want to know why: what made you so sure that Lucien was good? What made you distrust your brothers – me?"

"Nothing, ok?" Anakin ran his hand through his hair, feeling the beginnings of grease covering the bristles. "I just chose. Innocents come first."

"That's a cock-and-bull answer and you know it, Annie." Wyatt muttered angrily. "If you were just protecting an innocent, you wouldn't have killed us. There had to have been something else."

"Why?" Anakin defensively asked. "I've only been at this for three, going on four years, Wyatt. Couldn't I have slipped up? Couldn't it have just been a mistake?"

"You wouldn't be so quiet about it if you thought it was just a mistake." Wyatt said wisely. "And don't start on about the prophecy, because that is just another cop-out."

"Why does it matter?" Anakin inquired, desperate to change the subject.

"Because," Wyatt paused and made sure Anakin was looking at him before he continued, "Because we all get a second chance now, Annie. And I don't want to screw it up."

"But you did nothing wrong," Anakin threw his hands up in the air but still kept his voice barely above a whisper. "You acted on a hunch and I acted on mine."

"One of our hunches had to be wrong, Annie," Wyatt spoke softly. "Why can't you tell me the reason?"

Anakin closed his eyes, his entire body showing absolute detestation of the topic. "Wyatt, you're my brother. He was my brother." Anakin swallowed. "But he wasn't there for me. I had just lost Dad and Mom, and all he could go on about was finding the demons that killed them. And I won't deny that was on the top of my to-do list, but I was only eleven. I needed someone to just listen to me – to understand what I was going through.

"And for all your amazing talents and ability, Wy, being emotionally there for someone is not one. We lost that when Prue died. But at least I still had Mom; but then she died, and I had no one – no one but Grandpa and Lucien. Grandpa had to be the parent, the adult. So Lucien was the one I turned to. The one who was there so I could cry, yell, curse, hit – he was just there."

Wyatt's eyes did not look directly into Anakin's then. "Sorry."

Anakin half chuckled. "There's nothing to be sorry about, Wy. He was only eighteen, and suddenly was suddenly responsible for two dependents. He had issues of his own to deal with. You and Chris were always the quickest to rebound of the family. Prue and I could internalize issues, but we never just bounced back like you and Chris could."

"But still, you—" Wyatt was at a loss for words.

"Wyatt," Anakin smiled, "there is truly nothing to say about it. I never held it against you that we never spoke after Mom's death, except about nominal activities. It was just … when I saw Lucien's life in danger, I acted. It wasn't anything personal against you or Chris. You are my brothers, through thick and thin. Just in that second, that moment, my brothers didn't exist. And then after that second, they truly did not exist." Anakin continued to smile, but his eyes watered up.

"We'll do better this time, Annie." Wyatt promised.

"Wy," Anakin started, but then fell silent. "Fine, but promise me one thing."

"What – anything?" Wyatt looked at Anakin expectantly.

"Don't change who you are," Anakin whispered. "You're this family's stronghold, Wy; without you, we would fall apart. You are our fearless leader, and that is something I would never want to change."

Wyatt slowly smiled and nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Good," Anakin looked at the computer. "So has the search engine found anything yet?"

Wyatt twirled around and began scrolling down the pages of search results.

"It's not much, but Arlecchino is a comic servant in Italian plays."

"Not much help for us," Anakin mumbled.

"But the name, Arlecchino, is derived from one of the devils in Dante's _Inferno_." Wyatt read off the computer screen.

"Alright, so it's in popular culture," Anakin said, "still not an end of the world deal yet, Wy."

"I'm getting there," Wyatt said, scanning the page to find his thought. "Forget Dante's _Inferno_; Hellequin is a French translation of the name, and in French plays, Hellequin is the Devil's representative. He gets the job of chasing all the damned souls to Hell."

"Alright," Anakin said, sitting up and looking at the computer screen. "Stop there." Anakin reached over and flipped the Book open to a page in the book written in a language Anakin could not understand. On one of the lines about half way down the browned and crinkled page was the word 'Hellequin,' written in red ink, and surrounded by smudged black ink. "See," he handed the Book to Wyatt, "It's in the Book."

Wyatt nodded silently and mumbled words under his breath.

"You know the language?" Anakin inquired, surprised and impressed.

Wyatt looked up, his eyes sparkling. "People always say French is the language of romance."

"No," Anakin shook his head, "they say it is one of the Romance languages as in the languages derived from Latin."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Paris is still the most romantic city in the world, so what does it matter?"

Anakin shrugged. "So is it French?"

"It's an archaic form of French," Wyatt answered, looking back down at the Book. "But from what I can gather, Hellequin was at one point the heir to the – I can only guess – the Source's powers, but powerful French witches entombed him in ice to keep him from taking over Hades."

"Hades?" Anakin frowned. "What's with the Bible references?"

Wyatt shrugged. "The next part is too smudged to decipher, but I'm guessing it tells how they entombed him, because the next legible part is about his powers."

"Well, is there anything else but telepathy?" Anakin inquired.

Wyatt scrunched his eyebrows as he struggled to comprehend the horrendous handwriting. "Telepathy is definitely his main power, but it talks about his ability to still the – soul, maybe?"

"Are you asking or telling?" Anakin asked snappishly.

"Cool your jets," Wyatt muttered. "Still the soul makes sense, especially given his name."

"Okay," Anakin started, "but what does that mean?"

"No idea," Wyatt said honestly. "But there's a vanquishing potion at the bottom. It's written in English."

"Probably an addition by Grams," Anakin said, glancing at the bottom of the page. The ink was shinier and the handwriting much more compressed and sharper. "For him being such a high level demon, this potion's not all that complicated. I think the potion to vanquish a Grimlock have more potent ingredients."

"Well, who are we to argue with the amazing Penelope Halliwell?" Wyatt asked, writing down the ingredients on a scrap piece of paper. The Book's pages rustled about. "Oh, give it a break Grams. You know we love you." The pages settled down.

Anakin grinned like a madman and said, "The fantastic and infallible potion aside, I think we might want to come up with a spell."

"Spell?" Wyatt dotted his last 'i' and looked up. "Really think it'll come to that?"

"Well, maybe," Anakin sobered down. "The more we have planned, the more confused he'll be."

"Use his telepathy against him," Wyatt nodded. "I like it."

"Well, shall we brew the potion, or wait until everyone else is up?"

Wyatt stood up and stretched, yawning. "Hell, I'm not going to get any more sleep until this is all over." That said, the two brothers started toward the kitchen.

"Still think this potion is simple?" Wyatt inquired as they poured out the third botched up potion.

Anakin coughed as the powerful stench of burning hair assaulted his nose. "Like you said, 'Grams knows best.'"

"So what did we do wrong this time _again_?" Wyatt was keeping the conversation light for Anakin's sake. The younger man seemed to be struggling to stay in the present. Something was still bothering the blond witch, and it was deeper than just the looming battle.

"You added the mandrake before taking the pot off the heat," Anakin mumbled, already dicing the last of the dark green fronds.

"Guess this is our last chance at this." Wyatt returned to the stove, adding the small cast iron Dutch oven back over the open flame. "Can you hand me the bat eyes?"

Anakin waved his hand and the glass jar half full with small, black, shriveled orbs floated over to Wyatt's side of the island. "I think we should only add eight eyes rather than twelve."

"Why?" Wyatt asked, using a small silver tweezers to pry one of the stinky eyes from the gooey mass below.

"Because Grams probably didn't take into account the fact that bat eyes today are sold re-hydrated." Anakin stated. "That's a recent development."

"And you say Pyrrha's the bookworm." Wyatt commented, adding the eighth eye to the potion along with two scoops of ground lizard stomach. The potion let out a puff of white-grey smoke. "Ready for the fronds."

Anakin lifted up the plastic breadboard and held it over the pot, allowing the light green juices to drip into the glossy clear potion. Wyatt scraped the tiny pieces of green like confetti into the potion, and it started to bubble rapidly, so that the foam was dangerously close to boiling over. Wyatt switched off the flame and the foam slowly deflated.

"Now, we wait for twenty-minutes," Anakin replied, reading the instructions off the small yellow post-it; it was easier than carrying around the heavy Book.

"So we didn't screw up this time?" Wyatt questioned, peering into the pot. The liquid had taken on the consistency and texture of thick porridge. They had one last ingredient to add, the mandrake, but the potion still had to cool.

"Well, it looks like we deduced it should," Anakin walked over to the sink carrying the plastic breadboard.

Wyatt followed Anakin with his eyes. He was worried about the young man. "Perhaps you should get some sleep, Annie."

Anakin looked back at Wyatt as he continued to rinse the breadboard. "I'm fine Wy."

"So why is every ounce of common sense in my body telling me that you can't be fine?" Wyatt inquired, firmer in his tone, and more assured that he was right in pressing the matter.

Anakin shrugged and in a nonchalant tone said, "Perhaps you should get your empathy checked."

"This has nothing to do with empathy, Anakin," Wyatt joined the young boy at the sink. "I know you, Annie. I know that something is bothering you."

"You're no Aunt Phoebe, Wy," Anakin joked, moving away form the sink and toward the dining room.

"Anakin, you told me that I'm the pillar in this family." Wyatt placed a hand on Anakin's shoulder but the young man cringed away the physical contact. "Let me in, Anakin."

Anakin continued to walk away from Wyatt. When Wyatt started to follow, Anakin stopped. Without turning around he muttered in a controlled whisper, "You should finish the potion, Wyatt."

Wyatt flipped his hand over and the mandrake fell into the lukewarm potion, changing it to a vibrant blue and covering the kitchen floor with dense clouds of pale ruby smoke. "Done," Wyatt stepped into the dining room, cutting off Anakin's escape route. "Now can we talk?"

"No," Anakin shook his head and turned away from Wyatt once again. "Because there's nothing to talk about, Wyatt."

Wyatt reached out and spun Anakin around, looking directly into the young man's crystal blue eyes and saw the pain and uncertainty before a steel door slammed shut. "Anakin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," Anakin pried Wyatt's fingers off his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong."

"Fine," Wyatt shrugged and turned away. "I'll go wake Mom and tell her that we're heading out."

"I'm going to lose him." Anakin blurted out.

"What?" Wyatt spun around. "Who are you going to lose?"

Anakin bit his lip and blinked his eyes. "Lucien, Wyatt. I'm going to lose Lucien."

"That's what this is all about?" Wyatt failed to keep the exasperation out of his tone.

"See?" Anakin spun around and nearly knocked over the potion as he brushed past the island. "I knew you wouldn't—"

"Anakin! Wait!" Wyatt cursed under his breath. He ran to catch up to Anakin. "I'm sorry," he said, catching Anakin's wrist. "It's just – you're so young."

"So?" Anakin muttered staring at his feet. "That means I've got to be petty and childish? Wyatt, I watched my family get slaughtered by demons. That kind of makes a person grow up a bit more quickly."

"Yes, I know," Wyatt fumbled for the right words. "I was wrong, ok?"

Anakin let out a sigh and allowed Wyatt to guide him into the living room. He collapsed onto the couch, running his hand through his hair.

Wyatt sat down on the coffee table, hands on his knees. "Care to elaborate, Annie?"

"Lucien died in my time," Anakin muttered. "And with the Powers concentrated on restoring order to the heavens..." he trailed off. "And even if he does get incorporated after the time shift, what's to say that he's not already involved with someone else?"

"So?" Wyatt shrugged. "He dumps that person as nice as he-slash-she is, and starts going out with you."

Anakin groaned. "I never thought that—"

"That he might not be homosexual?" Wyatt frowned. "Anything is possible, Annie; but the point, is Lucien loves you. His memories will be there. And love's a hard thing to ignore."

Anakin swallowed. "My brain knows your right, Wy, but my heart – it's scary. I can barely breathe at times. My entire life has been erased, and as horrible as that life was, it was also familiar; it was home."

Wyatt smiled. "Well, you're just going to have to make do with having your family around you for the rest of your life, because we're not going anywhere."

The sounds of creaking wood echoed above their heads.

"Guess we'd best get ready for the fight." Anakin said, looking up at the ceiling and bringing the conversation to a close.

"Guess so," Wyatt stood up and pulled Anakin into a spontaneous hug. "Everything will be alright, Annie," he whispered. "I promise."

Anakin, at first caught off guard by the very un-Wyatt like action, relaxed and quietly nodded his head, allowing himself for those few seconds to hope. Wyatt broke the hug and disappeared up the stairs. Anakin slowly prepared himself and headed to the kitchen to bottle the potion.


	15. But It’s Worse When They Do

But It's Worse When They Do

"Are you sure they did not see you?" Jonathan inquired, pacing back and forth through the massive underground chamber.

Hellequin nodded, eyeing the irate Source. "I shimmered out of there the moment I was knocked out of her body. That blond witch is very powerful considering his age."

"He's stubborn," Jonathan stopped his agitated movement and his billowing black robes floated down around him, giving the vampire a ghost-like appearance. Jonathan paused, reassessing everything around him. After a couple of silent minutes, the tanned vampire continued. "The battle in the heavens was not a total success, but at least, the Elders are on the run."

"What of Brendan?" Hellequin immediately inquired, daring to look into the black voids, which constituted as the vampire's eyes.

"Brendan is dead," Jonathan snapped, flames erupting in his eyes. In a harsh, cruel tone he lambasted the deceased darklighter. "His old self won out. He was a fool: thought he could overpower his precious Gabriel. Idiot! His compassion was his downfall."

"His expertise will be sorely missed, Jonathan." Hellequin bowed his head in reverence, but his tone hinted disdain and hatred.

Jonathan's eyes flashed as he rounded on the masked demon. "But his loyalty will not!" He spat. "A fallen angel is worse than a demon. I will not make that mistake again."

"Whatever you say, Jonathan." Hellequin whispered, barely able to hide his emotions. The demonic telepath turned around and headed toward the exit, saddened by the loss of a friend and infuriated by the Source's apparent lack of empathy.

Jonathan sighed and spoke in an exhausted tone, "I don't dismiss his importance in my quick ascendancy to the throne, Hellequin. Don't doubt my sincerity about that."

Suddenly, Jonathan's soulless eyes turned a helpless and pleading brown, the same warm brown as his half-brother's gaze. Jonathan rubbed his forehead, blocking his face from Hellequin. The vampire regained his composure and looked back up at Hellequin, the utter impassive blackness of the Source's eyes back in place. The leader of evil cleared his throat and continued, "But he was a liability. His ties to the Powers That Be were strong – too strong. This way, his sacrifice for his beliefs—his world order—aids us rather, than cripples us."

"There is a reason you became the Source, Jonathan, and not I." Hellequin hissed in an undertone. "Sacrifice was never my forte."

"You would throw me to the wolves if you thought the wolves could kill me," Jonathan snapped, challenging the masked demon.

Hellequin did not back down but stood his ground. In an icy tone he hissed, "You're loyal to me, and any of your other 'allies', Jonathan; only as long as you need to be. I am simply more cautious when I decide to alienate myself."

Jonathan's eyes turned blazing gold and Hellequin's hand shot up to his neck, startled, where two small puncture wounds started to spurt out tar-like blood. "Cheek is one thing I will not tolerate, Hellequin. Watch your tone when you speak to me; I'm the effing Source of All Evil."

Hellequin, wild-eyed, tore his hand away from the wounds on his neck and bowed low. "Forgive me, milord. I was confused." The black, tar blood continued to dribble out of the puncture holes, dripping to the floor and fizzing. Hellequin kept his head bent over, gasping for breath, fearful to make a move and anger Jonathan more. Now was not the time for revenge, not when the golden-eyed vampire was expecting it. His breath stopped when he saw Jonathan's boots step on the growing puddle of acidic blood. A cold hand touched his shoulder and guided the swan-marked demon to stand up straight. Hellequin took a deep breath and looked into the emotionless voids of the Source.

Jonathan removed his hand from Hellequin's shoulder, and placed it harshly over the gaping and swollen teeth marks. The smell of burned skin filled the room and Hellequin ground his teeth to stop himself from screaming. After a few moments Jonathan removed his hand, two penny-sized white scars replaced the infected wounds. Jonathan licked his fingers clean, his now golden eyes rolling back in short-lived ecstasy. The lord of the Underworld composed himself with a deep breath. His cold black eyes focused on and stared into the very should of the humbled and humiliated demon. "Hellequin, my friend, we have divergent views on subjects that matter most. Forgive me if I become hostile, but the time nears for the final battle, and my nerves are stretched."

Hellequin took a minuscule step away from the imposing Source. Every fiber in his being was screaming for him to flee, to find a way to bring this powerful miscreant to his knees, but he had to keep up appearances. Fear would only further entice Jonathan. The brown-eyed demon took a deep breath and nodded slowly. He spoke in an obedient and complaint tone. "I will command the leaders to speed up their preparations," he paused briefly to look into Jonathan's eyes, "milord."

Jonathan nodded, satisfied his point had been understood. "Return quickly, Hellequin. I fear the witches may still find a way to track you down." Jonathan spun around, a clear sign of dismissal, and started toward his throne.

Hellequin bowed, forcing a smile while grinding his teeth and vanished in a myriad of glowing red outlines.

The small group of Halliwells plus Lucien appeared in a large underground chamber with a short flash of magic. Unlike usual demonic chambers, this one was furnished. Anakin looked around, studying his surrounding in case of a fight. He quickly realized that the lair looked very similar to pictures of a penthouse Phoebe and her ex-husband Cole Turner once owned. Growing up in the Underworld obviously severely limited a demon's knowledge of room décor. The blond witch continued to analyze their surroundings, but everything seemed calm and vacant. Anakin felt a soft touch graze against his hand and turned his head to glance over his shoulder. He shot Lucien a smile and took the elemental's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Well, the spell should have brought us right to him," Piper stated in a low voice, peering around the room. "I've been at this too long to screw up a simple transportation spell..." she continued to mutter.

"Do not fear, Piper Halliwell," Hellequin appeared in the room right next to Prue, who muffled a screamed. The demon smiled down at the young witch as he continued to address Piper. "Your spell writing is as sharp as ever."

The group of witches moved to attack, but Hellequin was too quick: his arm shot out and his long skeletal fingers wrapped around Prue's smooth neck. He leered at the group of frozen Halliwells. He slowly lifted the eleven-year-old witch off the floor and daggled her inches from the ground. "Think you can blow me apart faster than I can squeeze her neck flat?" He taunted harshly.

Anakin glanced over at Wyatt, who looked just as confused as he felt. One wrong move and they would lose their sister. Anakin looked back at the leering Hellequin and Prue who had her eyes squeezed shut and appeared to be mouthing a prayer, or more likely curses at her captor. Anakin watched helplessly as Hellequin slowly tightened his grip until the skin around the demon's fingers was starkly white. Anakin gritted his teeth, still frozen in place. Slowly, it dawned on him: he had to accept he was powerless. As long as Hellequin had Prue's life in his hands, Hellequin had all the power. Anakin's shoulders sagged in defeat.

"I thought as much," Hellequin stated gleefully. He kept his captive between himself and the group of witches, but he lowered to the floor so that she was standing on the tips of her toes. The masked demon increased the pressure around her throat just to ensure none of the Halliwells tried any heroics. "Now, I am no lower-level, trigger-happy demon. I know I have no chance against all of you by myself. "Let's even up the odds a bit shall we?" The demon smugly snapped his fingers.

The sound barely reached Anakin's ears when four humanoid demons shimmered in behind Hellequin, each of the demons sporting sharp, pointed teeth. Their skin was tinted pale yellow-green, and their dark blue veins were clearly visible underneath the translucent, lime skin. Their windswept hair gave them the appearance of old, possessed men. Their eyes, however, stared out of their sockets with power and imbued evil.

Hellequin turned around and studied the four monstrous creatures. "You will do," he murmured to himself. He turned around to watch the Halliwell as he continued to speak to the four thugs. "Kill any you wish, _but_ save the elemental for your Source." With one final flashing smile the masked demon vanished, taking the kicking and screaming Prue with him.

The four skeletal demons attacked as a group, moving at a quicker pace than any of the witches anticipated. Massive energy and fire balls pelted them, causing them to scatter. Wyatt scrambled to his feet, throwing up his shield to deflect the next wave of deadly plasmatic balls. The drywall façade crumbled as the demons continued to attack Wyatt's transparent blue shield, revealing scorched stone beneath. The demons, clearly unimpressed by the display of power, snarled, hissed, and spat like frustrated and rabid predators.

Despite the display of feral attributes, the demons were cunning. They split up and encircled the shielded group of witches, sizing up each inch of the shield with calculating gazes. Finally, one of the demons, the largest of the four, charged forward. With momentum rivaling that of a freight train, the demon crashed into the blue translucent dome, causing it to buckle. Wyatt fell to the floor, his arms raised to keep the shield from completely collapsing.

The demon picked himself up and threw himself against the shield again, forcing it to shrink. The other three demons joined in pushing against the shield, moving it inch by inch closer to the clustered group of worried witches. Wyatt was soaked in sweat and his arms spasmed uncontrollably. His breathing was erratic and labored.

"Any help here would be great, guys!" Wyatt struggled to speak and keeping breathing.

The call for help woke the rest of the group up from their stupor. Chris chose a target and in a practiced, deliberate wave of his entire right arm sent one of the demons flying across the room. The demon collapsed on the glass coffee table, shattering it, spreading shards everywhere. The larger shards stuck in place and ripped through the demon's flesh, the cracked glass pieces sticking out of his chest and dripping red-brown, thick blood. The life-sustaining liquid ran off the demon's chest and onto the glass-littered floor, corroding everything it touched. The demon cursed and spluttered in incoherent anger; steeling himself, he pushed himself off the floor and slowly pulled out the remaining shards.

Piper, meanwhile, focused her attention on the largest demon. With all her might, the powerful matriarch struck out with her much-feared explosive power. Her attack, fueled by her fear for her daughter and anger at the demon that kidnapped her struck the massive demon hard. Like a toy boat in a stormy sea, the pale-yellow demon was thrown across the room and crashed heavily onto the ground. Piper, not pausing for a moment, flicked her fingers again, and the demon roared in pain. His lower left arm burst into tiny red particles, leaving behind a bloody stump, complete with a few dangling, white tendons and bits of yellow-green ripped skin.

The demon scrambled to his feet with an angry huff and waved his uninjured hand over the bloody stump. There was a loud squelching noise mixed with the sound of gas bubbling out of thick, wet mud. His arm re-grew from the bloody stump, brand new. Sneering at Piper, the tall demon threw a basketball-sized fireball at Wyatt's shield. The fiery attack shattered through the blue dome, leaving a jagged, gaping hole. Piper dove for cover and the fireball singed her hair before passing harmlessly out the other side of the ever paling blue dome. The brown-haired woman rolled over and quickly motioned with her left hand. Her aim was off, but the attack hit the rock above the demon's head. The demon laughed, but looked up as the rook groaned against the added strain. He let out a stunned roar as a cascade of rubble collapsed on top of him. Piper got to her knees, took better aim this time, and unleashed another explosive wave of magic. The demon and the pile of rubble turned into bloody dust particles and were swept away by the stirred-up air of the action-packed room before being able to resettle on the ground.

Lucien, in the meantime, extended one of his arms and a long jet of roaring flames erupted from his palm. The stream of red and orange wrapped around the demon before him, making the demon to shriek in agony as his flesh was burned to a crisp. The pain caused him to drop the long, thin, silver athame he had nearly plunged into Wyatt's shield. Severely burnt, the demon convulsed as the waves of pain overtook him and he roared, deranged by the pain. Completely deformed and eyeless, the demon threw himself at, or more like collapsed on, the weakened shield. Wyatt, unable to keep the protection up, dropped his arms, and the blue shield vanished.

The burned demon conjured up an energy ball, smaller than any of the previously used energy balls, and tossed it at Wyatt. Anakin reacted with blind instinct and redirected the blue and white ball of pure electrical energy back at its thrower. The energy ball hit the demon in the chest and threw him to the floor. The demon screamed, but was not vanquished.

Anakin glared, uncaring, at the demon. The blond witch spotted the dropped athame and waved his finger in the helpless demon's direction. The small, shiny dagger rose off the floor and shot toward the demon, lodging the intricately decorated knife right in his breastbone. The demon's screams took on a new pitch of agony and fury as flames rose up and began to lick at his already burnt flesh. His screams reached a climax as the flames blocked his disfigured form from view. The fire turned a purifying white for a brief second before bursting out in all directions, shaking the very foundation of the cave. Nothing was left of the demon but a pile of ash and the thin silver athame.

Down half their group, the remaining two monstrous demons changed tactics. Instead of leering and circling the group of witches like wary Great White Sharks, they charged forward, bent on separating the weakest members from the herd. They looked like exact clones of each other and worked in eerie synchronism. One, using energy balls and telekinesis, attacked the older male witches and Piper, forcing them deeper into the destroyed "apartment".

The other demon turned his icy eyes on Pearson and Lucien. He easily dodged the futile attempts by the elemental and half-trained witch to stop his progress. When he got close enough to touch the two young witches, the demon conjured up an athame and swiped at Lucien's face. Lucien backed up, keeping himself between the demon and Pearson.

The lanky demon backed Lucien and Pearson into a corner and grinned. The hideous monster crept forward twirling the athame between his fingers. He got within inches of the two witches when he tripped over one of the numerous rock fragments. Unable to keep his balance, the demon toppled sideways, giving Lucien and Pearson time to retreat further away from Anakin and the others. Eyes blazing with fury, the demon rose up from the ground, bent on revenge.

Lucien took a deep breath and placed himself between the demon and Pearson once more. Cocking his head to the side with an overconfident smirk, the demon dared Lucien to do his worst. Lucien ignored the approaching horror of skin and bones and steadied his breathing. The brown-haired elemental threw his hand out in front of his chest opening up his fingers at the last second. A tiny blue-white spark jumped between his fingers but dwindled into nothingness inches away from his hand. The demon laughed and slowed his progress, leering at his prey. Lucien did his best to ignore the increasing fear and embarrassment; his heart raced in his chest. All these years down the road and he still struggled to perform under pressure.

Pearson flicked his fingers and the demon stumbled. "Try again, Lucien," he stated in a tone of complete trust.

Lucien nodded and closed his eyes. He thought of everything he was fighting for; all he was fighting against. His eyes shot open, blazing with raw emotion. The brown-eyed witch opened up his fingers a large fireball, a ball of licking tongues of red, orange, and pale yellow flame, sprung to life in the palm of his hand. With the accuracy of a seasoned pitcher, Lucien threw the melon-sized fireball at the approaching demon. The ball of angry flames hit the demon in the chest and the red-eyed creature stumbled, stunned, and hissed in pain and shock. His chest was a smoldering pile of ash-colored flesh billowing charcoal-black smoke.

The demon roared, raising both hands, pointing his palms at the two celebrating witches, shooting two energy balls at them. Lucien spotted the attacks and whipped his arm around in a fluid circle. A wind vortex surrounded Pearson and Lucien, redirecting the two deadly attacks into the sides of the dry, crumbling walls.

The demon bared his long pointed teeth and pounded on his still smoking chest. There was a gut-wrenching, wet, ripping noise before the demon's chest was fully healed. The demon charged and Pearson threw an energy ball of his own at the brute, but the demon ripped it out of the air. He closed his fist around the energy ball and snuffed it out.

"You'll have to do better than that, witch." The demon sneered coldly.

"Yeah?" Lucien shouted, grabbing the demon's attention. The elemental picked up a discarded athame. "Take this!" He yelled as he threw the athame, but the demon shimmered out before it struck.

Suddenly, the predatory demon shimmered in behind Pearson. "Missed!" he mocked Lucien while wrapping his clawed hand around Pearson's neck. The demon lifted the kicking and screaming eight-year-old off the floor and prepared to throw him.

"_NO_!" Lucien yelled as the demon let go. He watched, horrified, as Pearson's body flailed in the air like a rag-doll. The blond fell in a graceful arc and hit the rock floor with enough force to be thrown back into the air, finally coming to rest another four feet away.

Lucien charged forward, forgetting all about his own wellbeing. The demon placed his hand in Lucien's path and a powerful wind swept the rage-blind witch off his feet. The curly haired teen tumbled forward; unable to get his arms out to catch his fall, Lucien hit the floor chin first. The force of the impact rattled his teeth and bent his neck beyond its normal limits and blood filled his mouth as his vision clouded. His eyes rolled back into his head, his eyelids fluttering shut. There was final wet gasp before his body went limp, a small pool of blood collecting around his neck.

The demon walked over to the body and raised his hand, preparing to throw an energy ball simply to add insult to injury. But suddenly he gripped his stomach in agony; a burning hole ripped through his body, leaving behind a pile of ash.

"Lucien!" Anakin ran forward, ignoring the demon he had just vanquished with nothing more than a thought. The distraught blond dropped to his knees and placed his hand on Lucien, attempting to heal the curly-haired elemental. "Come on, Lucien," he mumbled, shaking his hand over the teen's body in frustration. "You can't give up – not now – not when we're so close!" Tears fell freely from his eyes, blurring his vision.

A gentle hand brushed against his fist. "I'm not going anywhere, Annie." Lucien whispered.

"Oh, God!" Anakin sniffled loudly and wrapped his arm around Lucien, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"What happened to the demons?" Lucien groggily asked when Anakin finally relaxed his grip enough for him to breathe again. He gently removed himself from the rest of Anakin's shaking embrace.

"Anakin vanquished them," Wyatt answered the question while the still crying Anakin could not. The older blond came and knelt down beside the two, finishing the clumsy healing job Anakin had started.

"How?" Lucien asked.

"Does it matter?" Anakin inquired, sniffing and wiping his eyes dry. "They're dead and you're safe." He rounded on Wyatt. "I told you it was too dangerous for them."

"But not for you?" Lucien heatedly challenged. "Anakin I'm—"

"Not a Halliwell." Anakin finished, equally impassioned.

"So that means, what – exactly? Anakin?" Lucien's brown eyes flashed dangerously.

"It means..." Anakin dragged out the last word, buying time to form an argument. "It means that this isn't your destiny."

Lucien laughed, but it had no humor behind it. "I'm as intertwined to this as you are, Anakin." He looked Anakin directly in the eyes. "Or have you forgotten that Jonathan's my half-brother?"

Anakin broke the eye contact, suddenly finding the floor much more intriguing. "Luc, I just don't want to see you hurt."

"And I don't want to see you killed either, Annie," Lucien's tone lost its hostility. But he still added determinedly, "Wherever you go, I'm coming along, so get used to it."

"I'm fine, thank you very much." Pearson muttered, joining the group along with Chris and Piper.

"We got the message the first time." Wyatt and Anakin mumbled, rubbing their temples.

"Just making sure." Pearson stated, lacking any sorrow for the pain he had caused.

"Can either of you follow Hellequin?" Piper broke into the conversation.

"No." Wyatt said, defeated.

"Wy's right," Anakin whispered fearfully. "The trail's too cold."

"But he has Prue," Piper said more hurriedly, fear creeping into her voice. "We've got to get her back."

"We know, Mom," Anakin said, looking up at his mother. "We're figuring it out."

"How?" Piper asked. The five young men were completely silent. "Let your worried mother into the conversation here, guys, or you're going to start losing privileges."

"Somehow I don't think threatening them with grounding is going to register at the moment, Piper," Lucien stated, moving closer to the older witch. "They're in commune."

"What?" Piper's eyebrows flew into her fringe.

"Commune," Lucien repeated. "They're conversing telepathically. It allows ideas to flow quicker."

"Oh," Piper looked at her sons. "They do this often, then?"

"They did in my future," Lucien conversationally replied.

Piper pursed her lips, deciding if she liked the situation or not. "And they never allow me into the conversation?"

"Nope," Lucien smiled. "It's strictly between the brothers, the Power of Three."

They turned to watch the silent group of Halliwell brothers. Every once in awhile, one of the brothers' eyes would shift or come unglazed, but they never spoke. Piper shifted from foot to foot, antsy, and ready to get a move on. Lucien stood comfortably, eyes carefully studying Anakin for any sign.

"Mom, Lucien, come here." Wyatt called out, turning around to face the two excluded witches. "We need your help."

"Help?" Piper was surprised and relieved. "You actually need us?" She continued sarcastically.

"Not the time, Mom," Wyatt half-griped. "We've got a spell – but it might take more than the Power of Three to break through any wards that may – err…"

"Alright," Piper took her place between Pearson and Wyatt. "Let's hear it."

Lucien cautiously placed himself in between Chris and Anakin. "Are we sure about this?"

"It's the same spell Aunt Phoebe used to transport herself to Cole before Aunt Prue died," Anakin explained. "Chris reasons with the added power boost, it should work, and besides, it's our sister's magic we're calling for, not some demonic lover."

Piper bit her tongue at that remark. "Cole was more than—"

"Aunt Phoebe was young and naïve. That's at least how Uncle Coop explains it," Anakin butted right back in. "And I, for one, would like to keep that the accepted truth."

"Can we get back to saving Prue?" Chris asked, his hands shaking and his eyes darting around. "I don't like the feel of this place."

"Right," Wyatt took charge. "Just follow our lead:  
_Magic forces black and white  
Reaching out through space and light  
Be she far or be she near  
Take us to our sister there!_"

"That's your spell?" Piper started to ask, but a vortex blocked out all sound with its rushing wind as it swallowed the group.

The vortex reopened and spat out each witch individually into a well-lit room. On the walls were pictures of baseball players and basketball superstars. The unmade bed was covered in a dark blue duvet with various sports memorabilia patches sown on. It was obvious that the occupant of the room had left in a hurry, as it was beyond the normal mess level of even the messiest boy. The closet was wide open and clothes lay strewn in wrinkling piles, the shoes in a muddled pile, and a trail of odd socks led to the door.

Lucien gasped. "It can't be!"

"Can't be what?" Anakin whispered, looking around the room quizzically.

"This," Lucien went over and picked up a notebook, "this is..." he flipped through the faintly lined pages, most of them void of any writing, "this is my room."

"Did the spell backfire?" Pearson asked, showing his lack of experience.

"No," Chris stated, opening his eyes. "Prue's close, and she's afraid."

Piper and Wyatt's faces steeled and their expressions became ones of revenge.

"What about my family?" Lucien inquired. "Can you sense them?" Lucien unconsciously started to hold his breath.

Anakin shook his head. "They're not here."

"Are you sure?" Lucien began to hyperventilate and the blood was quickly leaving his usually rosy cheeks.

Anakin gripped Lucien's shoulder. "Don't worry about them, Lucien. They're not with him."

"We're not alone." Chris warned seconds before Hellequin burst out of roaring flames.

The skinny demon crashed into Piper, pulling her down to the floor. Hellequin's mask fell off in the struggle, revealing his face and the tattoo of a swan. His eyes were completely black and wide; he snarled, revealing the tell-tale elongated canines of a vampire. Piper kicked him and fought back, but he was simply too strong for the forty-something matriarch. A shield similar in fashion as Wyatt's blue shield protected the two from the helpless and infuriated young men.

"You always were the Charmed One I wanted to kill," Hellequin growled, his teeth inching closer to Piper's neck. "Such determination, even in the face of death, I always liked breaking those types of spirits."

Piper's eyes widened as the sharp fangs grazed her supple skin. "Like hell you'll bite me!" She yelled, and Hellequin suddenly went flying. Piper scrambled to her feet. "You freaking son of a—"

"Mom!" Wyatt grabbed Piper's shoulder and pulled her to the floor as a fireball singed her hair.

The Hellequin, Piper had blasted, vanished in a pile of ash and the one that threw the fireball conjured up another of the deadly attacks. "You guys are good. Not many were able to spot my astral projections until it was too late to see the decoy."

Anakin flicked his wrists and the fireball burst apart in the demon's palm. "Where's Prue?"

"Ah," Hellequin smiled, "Jonathan thought he'd take her off my hands for a little while."

"Bastard!" Piper yelled, but Wyatt kept her from recklessly running forward.

"Where's Jonathan?" Anakin asked, barely containing his anger through clenched teeth.

"Now, that is something I cannot answer," Hellequin grinned like a mad clown. "Jonathan asked not to be disturbed."

Anakin's eyes smoldered with fury. Hellequin gripped his head and screamed bloody murder. "Where _is_ my sister?" he asked in a cold, low voice. He blinked and Hellequin stopped screaming, but was breathing heavily.

"You can kill me, Anakin, but you will never find Jonathan." Hellequin gave a wheezing laugh. "He's won, Anakin; you'll lose everything … just like last time."

Anakin shook with rage. "I'll rip it out of your head!"

Hellequin's eyes showed fear. "You wouldn't dare."

"I did it once already." Anakin glared at the demon.

"Then you will die!" Hellequin shouted, conjuring an athame and throwing it in the same fluid, lightning-fast motion.

The athame struck Anakin in the shoulder of his decapitated arm. The eleven-year-old witch hissed and pulled the dagger out, dropping it to the floor in order to apply pressure to the wound. "You first!"

Hellequin screamed again, pulling at his hair as suddenly, his entire body caught on fire. The intensity and pitch of his shriek caused the members of the room to scramble to cover their ears. Anakin continued to stare at the demon, never blinking; his gaze was emotionless, cold. The brown-eyed demon reached out and a fireball flew out of his palm colliding with Anakin, tossing the teen clear across the room. The fire died out and the weakened demon pulled himself back up, leaning heavily against the wall.

"You can't win, Anakin," Hellequin wheezed. "Jonathan's too powerful."

Anakin pulled himself up enough to sit up straight, the wound on his chest still bubbling. "There's always a way."

Wyatt dropped down next to Anakin. He raised his hand to heal Anakin, but the blond knocked it away. "Don't lose focus!"

Wyatt turned around in time to see Hellequin starting to shimmer away. He waved his hand and the demon froze mid-shimmer. "Now what?"

"The vanquishing potion," Anakin hissed, shifting slightly and grimacing as pain shot across his chest.

"It won't work anymore," Chris said, walking over to his two brothers. "He's a vampire, now."

"Shit!" Wyatt muttered. He ground his teeth together in frustration, his entire body tense and shaking. Finally, he faced the demon and with a twist of the wrist unfroze Hellequin's head. "We won't vanquish your sorry ass if you give us what we want."

"So now the great Wyatt Halliwell is playing the bad cop." Hellequin's eyes flashed. "If you could vanquish me Wyatt, you would have already done so."

Wyatt punched Hellequin and the demon unfroze, crashing into the already messy closet. "Where's Prue!" Excalibur suddenly appeared in Wyatt's hand and he placed the point of the legendary sword against Hellequin's neck. He slowly drew the sword across, drawing a thin, straight line in black tar-like blood.

Hellequin's eyes glazed over for a second before they suddenly turned black to red, and finally settled on warm, brown, human eyes. "Where do you think?" Hellequin broached, his voice subtly changed. It still had anger in it, but it was no longer directed at the Halliwells. "I know which spell you used. Witches can be so dumb."

"They're here!" Anakin said with sudden revelation. He struggled to pull himself up. "Wyatt, they're here."

"What!" Wyatt spun around and Hellequin disappeared. "Shit!"

"Forget about him," Anakin heavily leaned on Lucien. His breathing was shallow and strained. The burn wound pained him every time he moved. "We need to find Prue."

"How?" Chris asked. "If they're here, I don't sense where. All I sense is fear and pain and determination, but that's slipping away fast."

The silence that descended on the group was tense. Pearson clenched and unclenched his fists, wanting action and unsure how to handle the sudden calm in the storm. Piper, despite years of experience and the stubborn willpower she had passed onto all of her children, looked worse for the wear. Her complexion was pallid, and her eyes, red with unshed tears of both anxiety and frustration. She devoted her time to watching Wyatt and Anakin, the two who seemed to know the most about the situation. However, both boys were doing nothing: lost in thoughts of despair and fighting against the terror that threatened to overwhelm them.

"The closet," Lucien whispered suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Excuse me?" Anakin coughed and spat out the small amount of blood that came up along with the phlegm.

Lucien gently rubbed Anakin's back as the coughing fit slowly passed. "It's something my dad always warned me against." Lucien paused to help Anakin across the room to the unmade bed. "In the corridor leading to my dad's bedroom was this large linen closet, except my dad never used it for anything. He threatened my stepbrother and me with the beating of our lives if we ever allowed our curiosity to lead to action. And my dad was not the kind of person to beat his kid," he added as an afterthought for those in the room who did not yet know about his family. "All I know is the day I revealed that I discovered my mom's old spell book in the garage, he took the book from me and threw it into that closet."

"So?" Chris asked, completely lost.

"From that moment, I felt a small, tiny hole," Lucien shook his head; the description was not true. "It was more like, an insistent tug that suddenly no longer existed. Well, that's not right either; I still feel the pull at times, but it's more like a phantom pain than anything else. It felt wrong."

"Still not getting the point," Chris almost snapped. "So your father didn't want you practicing magic, big deal."

"It _is_ a big deal, Chris," Anakin coughed and his breathing was haggard and wheezy. "You feel the same thing Lucien used to feel. We all do. It's our innate connection to the Book of Shadows."

Piper frowned. "They're in a different dimension!" She exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"Possibly," Lucien ran his hand through his hair. "You told me that the only time you felt something similar, Piper, was when—"

"When Abraxas stole the Book," Piper concluded. "But it takes a lot of power to open portals. Didn't you say your dad was non-magical?"

Lucien nodded. Wyatt, however, was the one to continue. "But elemental Coven leaders keep one portal open at all times in case they meet a demon they cannot vanquish. They just banish that demon to whichever dimension they have a portal to at that time. I learned about this in Magical Theory."

"_Now_ you remember something." Anakin mocked trying to make light of the situation.

"Your mom was the San Franciscan coven leader?" asked Wyatt.

"No idea," Lucien shrugged. "All I know is that she was a powerful elemental, powerful enough to get a whitelighter of her own."

"And powerful enough to brew potions and cast spells," Anakin whispered. "Most elementals can't do that."

"But they're witches?" Pearson's statement came out as an awkward question.

"Most elementals aren't witches," Lucien explained. "Most only control one element and are 'mortals'; they usually don't use the term elemental, but rather call themselves by the element they control. Fire-starters, for example." Lucien paused, waiting for questions. Piper suddenly showed recognition. Lucien smiled and continued. "Next up the ladder are those who control two or three elements and finally, those like me and my mom who can control all five major magical elements, but even then we specialize in one."

"So we think this closet is a portal to a different dimension?" Chris asked, trying to clarify the whole situation.

"Only thing that makes sense," Anakin struggled to remain conscious; his strength was leaving him quickly. He spoke slowly and with long pause, trying to keep a coherent thought. "Why else would Jonathan have brought Prue here?"

Piper felt the motherly yearning to comfort Anakin, but knew she would only be rebuffed, so she held her ground.

"So do we know which plane it's a portal to, or do we get to play Russian roulette?" Chris pushed onward.

"Only one of us should go," Wyatt stated. "No use in risking all our lives."

"No." Piper commanded.

"Mom," Wyatt took Piper by the shoulders and looked compassionately into her brown-hazel eyes. "We might not have our powers, but I will still have Excalibur."

"What if you still have powers?" Piper was still shaking her head. "You'll be no match for him."

"If I still have powers, I'll orb back out," Wyatt said reassuringly. "Then we can go in together."

"He's right, Mom," Anakin hated himself for saying it. "Wyatt really is the only option we have to save Prue."

"What if he died, Annie?" Piper's voice was firm, but her eyes betrayed her.

"I won't die, Mom," Wyatt gave the shorter woman a kiss on the forehead. And then he disappeared in blue orbs.

"Wyatt!" Piper shouted, but it was too late.

Anakin coughed and gagged.

"_Now_ can we heal you?" Lucien whispered, although his eyes had not left the place where Wyatt had been standing moments before.

"No," Anakin wiped his mouth with his forearm. "We need to be ready in case Wyatt needs our help."

Lucien was about to argue but the look in Anakin's eyes quieted him. The curly-haired teen settled for holding Anakin's hand tight in his own. He joined Piper and Anakin in staring intently at Chris and Pearson. Both were standing, swaying ever so slightly; their eyes glued shut. Their faces were scrounged up, showing their intense concentration. Their fists were balled up so tightly that Lucien was sure any second blood would start to dribble out of the cracks between their fingers. Their breathing was irregular and sharp; whatever they were sensing was obviously not enjoyable.

Then, without warning, Chris doubled over, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as if he had been punched by a steel fist. Meanwhile, Pearson stumbled backwards: a large angry-red fist-sized welt grew across his right cheek. Neither opened their eyes, but their dry lips cracked open and muffled screams of pain escaped their clenched-shut mouths. Piper ran forward to comfort Pearson, but a bright spark of blinding white light accompanied the enactment of a magical ward, sealing off the two brothers from the three onlookers.

Pearson, after a second invisible punch, fell to the floor. He continued to roll around the floor with his arms flying out against the invisible assailant. His motions and red face reminded Lucien horribly of a large constrictor's prey as the snake slowly but surely wrapped its large coils around the poor creature's chest and suffocated it. The eight-year-old was not prepared for such a physical fight and was quickly losing to the attacker.

Chris was fighting an invisible demon of his own, punching and kicking the air before twisting around and hissing, as if his nonexistent opponent was hitting him back. Chris's clothes ripped, as if on their own accord, and underneath the tears were deep, ragged wounds. Chris's face was swollen and bloody. While he was putting up a valiant fight, the invisible demon was quite obviously the better fighter.

The two never opened their eyes, but movement was clearly visible underneath the thin protective eyelids. The small encircled area was too cramped for the two brothers to continue fighting without running into each other. Just as it was looking like the situation could get no worse, Chris pivoted hard to the right and Pearson rolled into Chris's oddly-angled leg, and the two collapsed into a bundle of twisted limbs. Neither of them moved to try and disentangle themselves.

"Chris?" Piper called out hesitantly after a couple of seconds. "Pearson? Sweetie?"

Suddenly, a disheveled and transparent Wyatt appeared floating above the unmoving heads of his younger brothers. The blond frowned. "What happened?"

Piper's breath caught in the back of her throat and the blood drained out of her face. "Wyatt? Please—"

"Relax, Piper," Jonathan strode through the bedroom door without a scratch on him. "He's not dead – yet." A smile pulled at the edges of Jonathan's thin lips as he drew out the last syllable.

"YOU!" Anakin snarled, but his display of hatred was marred by a sudden surge of pain.

Jonathan patiently waited until he had Anakin's full attention. "Yes, Anakin, it's me. Didn't think you'd make it back to the future without seeing me, did you?" Anakin glared at the vampire. Jonathan rolled his eyes and turned his back on Anakin, walking around the bedroom. "But, fortunately for you, you are not my target tonight, either."

Anakin's eyes grew into critical slits. With acid lacing his every word, Anakin growled, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Jonathan theatrically sighed, "the precious Halliwell family can remain intact for the time being. Wyatt and Prue are both unconscious, but very much alive."

Piper started toward the door. Jonathan held up his hand and Piper was frozen in her tracks. Wyatt's transparent image also ceased any form of movement. He smiled at his handiwork and turned to face Anakin and Lucien. "I do, however, have a price for this large favor." Neither of the witches spoke. "Give me my brother, and you can have your family, Anakin."

Anakin sat up straight, ignored the stabbing pain, and glared at Jonathan. "Not on your freaking life!"

Jonathan smiled sadly and tutted. "You're really willing to sacrifice your family once again for your own self-gratification. How petty of you, Anakin. I thought good witches were supposed to have better moral compasses than that."

"Innocents come before family," Anakin retorted, gripping Lucien's hand tightly. Lucien gave Anakin's hand a supportive squeeze. "Neither Wyatt nor Prue would want it any other way."

"How do you know?" Jonathan inquired. "You had this conversation already with them? Or is this just an excuse you've built up to let yourself off the hook?" Jonathan sneered. "You choose Lucien, and Wyatt's and Prue's blood is on your hands, Anakin. Once again, your family will die because of you."

"I'll kill you first!" Anakin said, raising his hand. A jet of flames struck out at the vampire.

The vampire simply batted the roaring flames aside with the back of his hand in a bored manner. "You don't have the power to kill me, Anakin. I'm offering you goodness knows how many demon-free years. I'm offering your family. All for the simple and vastly small price of reuniting me with my brother."

"Go to Hell!" Anakin yelled, but the yell of anger turned immediately into one of excruciating pain.

Lucien looked down at Anakin, tears in his eyes. "Annie," he whispered. "Just let me go."

"No!" Anakin choked out. "He'll kill you."

"Better me than the whole world," Lucien struggled to keep his voice from breaking. "You can live to fight another day, Annie. Kill the bastard for me." The brown-haired elemental was terrified, angry, and determined to protect Anakin.

Anakin already in physical pain was torn. He understood intellectually the reason Lucien had given, but his heart wanted nothing to do with it. He opened his mouth to speak but Lucien was already acting.

Lucien stood up and glared at Jonathan. "You promise no harm will come to the Halliwells."

"No harm," Jonathan nodded. "So long as it remains in my best interests, they will remain free of demonic interference."

Lucien looked back at Anakin. "I love you," he whispered, silently crying, and leaned in to kiss Anakin, but Jonathan caught him by the arm and disappeared in angry, dancing flames.

Anakin screamed out in pain, anger, and frustration and the world went black.


	16. Naturally

Naturally

Naturally

"It's been three years, Wy." Pearson, now once again known by his first name, muttered.

Wyatt was up in the attic flipping through the Book of Shadows, ripping pages and taking out his frustration on the near-defenseless family heirloom.

"Why did magic abandon us?" he yelled at the roof. It was a useless remark; the Elders no longer existed in the heavens but rather in the numerous reconverted underground bomb shelters spread out across the globe. "What the eff is wrong with them to just let him die!"

Anakin remained silent; he knew it was best to let Wyatt vent. Three years ago, their lives had gone to hell. Jonathan somehow managed to kill the Anakin from the future. No one knew how it happened. They all agreed on the circumstances that led up to the event, but four hours of their lives, four very important hours, did not exist in their memories. All they did know was that somehow in those few precious hours Anakin and Lucien had vanished.

Jonathan, unfortunately, had not remained missing in action. The powerful vampire had shown up four months later to warn them to stay out of his way. When pressed for clues as to what happened to Anakin and Lucien, the golden-eyed demon simply smiled and repeated the warning, leaving the entire family more confused and angry than ever before.

Three years had passed, and since then, evil had taken over the world, if only in subtle ways. Witches, whitelighters, fairies, gnomes, leprechauns, nymphs; all of Good magic had gone into hiding. Demons had free reign to do whatever they pleased with innocents. Thankfully, Jonathan had kept the bloodshed to a minimum; although, that was not to say there had not been casualties. Friends and allies had been lost to demons; Elders who ventured into the open were hunted down with little chance of escape. While the non-magical world dealt with severe famine, drought, and global nuclear conflicts, the magical world sat by idly, hoping the demons would pass them over if they offered no resistance. Since the Halliwells had lost their fighting spirit, and so had the rest of Good magic. Anakin sighed and refocused on the issue at hand.

"Wy, destroying the Book won't bring them back." Anakin said softly. He too felt the invisible weight of the loss of his future self and Lucien. It saddened him immensely, but only one Halliwell could lose it at a time, and Wyatt had been losing it for a while.

The eighteen-year-old ignored the advice and continued to crumple already worn-out pages. "Anakin, we can't just give up. _He_ couldn't have won." Wyatt spat

"Three years," Anakin repeated, quietly but firmly. "We need to move on, Wy. Anakin wouldn't want us dwelling on this. He would have us out there trying to find a way to kill Jonathan." Anakin knew he was treading on very thin ice, but he felt it needed to be said. He had seen horrors over the past few years and kept the pain bottled up in his aching heart. And all that only made the blond more determined to honor the memory of his future self. _And_ that meant vanquishing Jonathan.

"Well, we can't," Wyatt snapped, "not without him." Wyatt lost his angry façade for a brief second and the pain shone through, clear as day. "N—not without both of them. The prophecy called for five of us and there's only three here."

"Actually," Anakin took hold of the Book and closed it gently, "the prophecy talks about four people, Wy." The younger blond looked at Wyatt sadly. "And we have four people."

They had been through this ritual already hundreds of times. The Disappearance, as Piper called it, had practically ripped the Halliwell family apart. Piper had gone five months without talking to either of her sisters, which was extremely out of the ordinary. Since being re-Charmed, none of the sisters had gone more than a week without talking to each other. While the adults grew distant in their grief and fear about the future, the next generation fought and bickered.

Piper's children all fought for the Halliwells carrying on the fight; they knew giving up on their destiny would only making things worse. Paige's children argued for an option that included both regrouping and some form of guerilla warfare. Phoebe's three daughters, the next true Charmed Ones, were firmly set on waiting for someone else to take up the fight. To which Wyatt immediately threw in a comment about Cupids being useless magical beings. Elders and whitelighters were pacifists to a fault, but at least they knew when to take action. Cupids relied on love solving everything, and Wyatt did not have patience for love to show Jonathan the error of his ways.

Three years down the road, the entire family knew the only way they could ever truly be restored was with the return of Anakin and, by extension, Lucien. And it was on that last point the now eleven-year-old Anakin had focused on for the past year-and-a-half. He had wrestled with the discovery that his future self was openly gay. He had felt an attraction toward guys before meeting the one-armed-hardened-killer version of himself, but had always hoped that it would pass. After all, Wyatt had gone through a similar stage, and the last thing anyone thought of when thinking about Wyatt was "gay." But he got over that fact he was homosexual, and began the long and trying search for Lucien.

The search was difficult, because soon after the Disappearance, Lucien's family had moved. None of the family had paid much attention to any of Lucien's back-story except for the major points: his birthday, his favorite movie, and his love for Anakin. But the fact that he had moved around five times in three years had been completely glossed over. Finding an address was next to impossible. And the incident that originally brought together Lucien and Anakin never occurred, because Piper had moved Anakin into Magic School. Not to stop the occurrence, but to ensure that everyone in the family was prepared for the inevitable battle between them and Jonathan. Anakin wanted to laugh at the utter bleakness of the situation. But about a week ago, he finally accomplished what he had deemed impossible: he _had_ found the Jonas family.

He had gone behind his family's back and phoned Darryl, who now worked in D.C. His pleadings, badgerings, and threats to expose magic finally convinced Darryl to contact a friend in the San Francisco Police Department. The none-too-happy detective had narrowed down Anakin's options to three Jonases living in the Bay Area. Anakin had further eliminated another one because the family lived out of the school district that Lucien said he had been a part of when the attack had happened. Left with two telephone numbers, Anakin simply called them both. The first one turned out to be a happily married couple with two daughters. The second, however, was a bitter man who when Anakin mentioned the name Lucien, exploded and chewed Anakin out over the phone.

The story was not a happy one. It seemed that Lucien had gone missing two years prior, a year after the Disappearance. Over the course of the police investigation, the sexual abuse Lucien had suffered at the hands of his stepbrother had come out, causing an acrimonious split between husband and wife. Lucien's father devoted his life in finding his lost son, but after two years of nothing, his father had become a self-loathing drunk. While Anakin felt sorry for the man, the point he took out of the conversation was that he could not accomplish his private promise to his future self. It seemed that Anakin's fears about losing Lucien had indeed been well founded. It was a depressing thought, and Anakin was happy he had not told anyone about his search. His family did not need any more sadness.

"Wyatt, we're not going to give up hope," Anakin said softly. "But if we focus solely on Anakin, even if we find him, there's not going to be a world for him to come back to. He risked everything going back to the past to save his family and look at how we're repaying him." Anakin gestured at the clutter in the attic as if it was proof of the tensions that threatened to sever the Halliwell clan forever. "We're barely a family anymore, Wy. Mom and Dad hardly talk to each other. Chris is never home and Prue's shut in her room with her boyfriend of the week. And you're destroying the Book trying to find a solution when there isn't any. Magic can't fix this, Wy."

"Why not?" Wyatt exploded. "Magic screwed this all up to begin with."

"Wyatt," Anakin forced himself to speak calmly. Wyatt was not usually like this: as the eldest of the Charmed children, he forced himself to try and be the pillar future Anakin had asked him to be. But a part of him had also died the day of the Disappearance. Every anniversary caused Wyatt to turn into this person that stood before Anakin: a self-loathing, furious witch.

Anakin took a deep breath and restarted. "Wy, magic abandoned us. It abandoned Anakin, _but_ the point is not to dwell on it. Be mad, be furious, be angry, but _don't_ lose it. Everyone else is hanging on by a thread, Wy, and I can't keep that thread from breaking by myself." He was pleading by the end, and he hated how unfair he was being toward Wyatt. But what he said was true; he could not keep the family together by himself. The pressure was too much for an eleven-year-old to handle even an eleven-year-old Halliwell.

Wyatt glared at Anakin, and the younger blond was not sure if he had finally crossed the line. Wyatt raised a hand, and Anakin flinched, taking a step backwards. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut waiting for the punch to land, but it never did. The young witch squinted to understand why he was not laying on the floor with a broken nose. The dark angry glint in Wyatt's eyes slowly faded away and the raised hand sunk back to Wyatt's side.

"Sorry, Annie," Wyatt muttered, drawing his hand through his hair in frustration. The eighteen-year-old witch closed his eyes, losing all the anger that had been fueling his rampage through the attic. No longer able to keep standing, Wyatt collapsed onto the couch, sobs racking his body. "It's just – it's –" Wyatt looked directly at Anakin and Anakin suddenly understood just how fragile the Twice-Blessed son truly was. Wyatt swallowed hard, his throat dry. "It should have been me." And the sobs took over, making his speech unintelligible. "He – they – it's not fair!"

"When's life ever fair?" Anakin muttered to himself as he patted Wyatt on the back. He suddenly found himself feeling very awkward; this was a complete role reversal. Acting purely on the urge to change the melancholy atmosphere, Anakin started speaking again on the first thing that came to mind. "I think I found a lead on where Jonathan is hiding out."

"Hiding out?" Wyatt looked up, chuckling without any inclination of humor. "He owns the world, Annie. _We're_ the ones in hiding."

"Yeah – ok – whatever," Anakin hurried past that subject. "The fairy king of the park down the block told me about some big summit happening here in San Francisco. He believes that the demons are planning to take over the human world."

"So?" Wyatt mumbled, looking at the floor. "Let them. It's not like they don't already control it."

"Wyatt!" Anakin shouted, feeling a migraine building. He had been getting migraines ever since the Disappearance. "Those are _innocents_ you're talking about."

"So freaking what?" Wyatt sharply stood. "We've got enough problems as it is without adding those of the world as well. A demon can sit in the oval office for all I care." He was yelling at the end. Then, suddenly, the furious energy of Wyatt's ramblings failed, and the blond collapsed back onto the couch. In a barely audible voice Wyatt whimpered, "I just want my family back!"

"Well," Anakin stood up and began pacing. "I, for one, am not going to sit by idly while the world goes to hell. If we kill Jonathan, the whole demonic conglomerate will fall apart," he implored.

"No," Wyatt shook his head, face in his palms. "Magic has done nothing for us, Annie. Why should we still run to its defense?"

"Because if we don't, innocent lives will suffer the consequences," Anakin spat, anger creeping close to the surface. He could handle most things, but having Wyatt suggest that they roll over and play dead was too much for him to handle. "If we don't, even more families will be torn apart. Even more brothers are going to feel exactly what you are feeling right now." Anakin looked at Wyatt's defeated form. He softened his tone. "Anakin's blood is not on your hands, Wy; but if we sit by and do nothing when there's a chance we can end all of this – that _will_ be on our heads." It was a low blow, but Anakin needed to kick Wyatt back into action.

Wyatt looked up at Anakin with a spark of self-hatred in his cold blue eyes. "I failed Anakin twice, Annie. How can I live my life as if that didn't happen? First I killed his love, and then I failed to protect him. I'm his older brother for God's sake."

"And it's been three years!" Anakin growled in annoyance. "Do you really think beating yourself up for three years is helping anyone?"

"It makes me feel like I'm being fairly punished," Wyatt snapped, jumping to his feet. "It makes sure that we don't forget Anakin."

"Forget him?" Anakin practically yelled, "Are you kidding me? The last thing in the world that's going to happen is our family forgetting about Anakin."

"Not all of us can just bounce back and continue on with our lives," Wyatt glowered at Anakin. "You were eight. You had no knowledge."

"No knowledge?" Anakin snarled. "I had to bloody deal with being the murderer of my family. You're absolutely right, Wyatt: that particular time in my life was a _spectacular_ breeze…" Anakin clutched his chest and his face turned a sickly shade of ghostly white. He felt dizzy and his chest continued to tighten painfully. Lacking the ability to remain standing the blond dropped onto the couch, taking short quick breaths.

The anger that had been building up and electrifying the air between the two brothers vanished in a second. "Annie!" Wyatt dropped down next to the blond, "you ok?"

"Do I look ok?" Anakin spat sarcastically, still rubbing his chest and trying to slow his breathing. "Get Mom, Wyatt."

Wyatt nodded and orbed out of the attic. Anakin brushed his blond matted hair off his burning forehead. He closed his eyes. The room was spinning and it was making him nauseous. Feeling much like the time he had the flu and a near-deadly high fever, Anakin groaned, wishing the merry-go-round sensation would stop. His fingertips began tingling and the pins-and-needles slowly spread up his arm and reached his chest. But when it reached his heart, it was no longer the sensation of a limb waking up, but of a hot double-edged sword being driven straight through his chest. Anakin screamed out in pain, his back bowed.

"My God!" Piper cried, running over to the couch before Wyatt even finished orbing into the room. "Annie, sweetie: what's wrong?"

"It hurts," Anakin choked between sobs. "Mom, make it stop." He pleaded.

"Wyatt," Piper called, placing a comforting hand on Anakin's forehead and sweeping the blond locks back. "Heal him." Piper's voice was full of fear.

Wyatt bent down next to his mother and ran his hands over Anakin, trying to find the infliction. After a few seconds of searching and muffled cursing, Wyatt shook his head, hating himself. "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" Piper yelled, not angry at Wyatt, but too stressed out to keep her voice in check. "He's burning up, Wyatt."

"I can't find anything wrong," Wyatt muttered, trying again. "Everything's … normal."

"Like hell it's normal," Piper's nostrils flared. "No one feels like they're on fire and has nothing wrong with them, Wyatt."

"Don't," Anakin muttered. "No–is–ault."

Piper smiled down at Anakin. "I know, sweetie." She turned her head and looked at Wyatt, feeling somewhat guilty for her behavior. She could see how this was killing her eldest son and she had just made it worse. Piper took a deep breath, knowing she had to be the strong one. "Wy, hon, try and see if there's anything in the Book."

Wordlessly, Wyatt got up and walked over to the Book. He knew after spending three years scrutinizing the ancient tome that no Halliwell had come across anything like this before, but there was nothing else left to do. He flipped through the pages, glancing up to check on his mom and youngest brother. Piper was pale and doing her best to remain strong; Anakin had a constant look of pain, if not physically, then expressed in the fact that his eyes had lost its optimistic gleam. Despite all the terrible things over the past three years, that was something Anakin had never lost, and to see him without it scared Wyatt. It reminded him of the almost haunted look the other Anakin had at times.

Suddenly, it clicked. Wyatt frantically flipped the pages in the Book, uncaring of the damage he caused. Finally, he found the page and held his breath. The page had a simple spell written in tiny, block-like script, and it lacked any form of description. The only thing Wyatt knew for certain was that the handwriting was undoubtedly Anakin's. The blond had spent hours staring at the page trying to figure out why Anakin had composed that spell. It clearly was a knockoff of the truth spell, and Anakin, close to the end, had told him that it was a useful spell to know.

Now, three years later, it had clicked. Wyatt muttered a silent prayer. Then the blond cleared his throat and began to read the spell softly:

"_F__or those who want the truth revealed,  
opened hearts and secrets unsealed,_

_Those__ now who are in this pain  
will hear the truth for one's own gain."_

Wyatt finished the spell and looked up expectantly, but nothing changed. Anakin was still pale enough to make a ghost look healthy. "That should have worked." He murmured to himself, panicking. They were running out of time.

"The spell?" Piper asked, twisting around to see Wyatt.

He fervidly nodded. "Why the hell else would he have written it down? Why would he have shown it to me?"

"Honey," Piper started calmly, "can we focus on trying to save your brother?"

Wyatt huffed, annoyed and worried. He ran a hand through his thick blond hair, thinking. "The only logical explanation would be he is if he's receiving Anakin's memories."

Piper frowned and turned back to stare at her youngest son. "And that's causing this much pain?"

Wyatt shrugged, paging through the Book trying to find anything to help. Finally, he gave up and walked back over to the couch. "There's nothing else, Mom."

"No!" Piper hissed determinedly. "I'm NOT losing him, Wyatt! Do you hear me? I'm not watching another member of my family die." Her eyes burned with tears.

"You think _I_ want to lose him?" Wyatt snapped defensively. "He's my _baby brother_! I'd give an arm and a leg to save him from this pain…" Wyatt trailed off nostrils flaring and worried eyes set on his youngest brother.

Piper looked into Wyatt's blue eyes and saw just how much it pained her eldest to not be able to save his younger brother. If there was one person on the planet who would do anything more for Anakin than herself, Piper knew that person would be Wyatt. Piper's eyes softened. "You're right, Wy," she whispered, turning back to wipe away beads of sweat from Anakin's brow. "How can we be so powerful and yet so helpless?" The Halliwell matriarch asked no one in particular.

Anakin, his face contorted by silent pain, blinked open his eyes. "Power of Three," he croaked, barely able to manage that.

"Hm?" Piper smiled as soothingly as possible and rubbed his forehead. "Sweetie, we're going to solve this."

Anakin was frustrated; they needed to understand him. "P—er—ree." Anakin swallowed hard.

"The Power of Three?" Wyatt frowned. "But we gave that up, Annie. The Power of Three doesn't exist anymore." He was looking at his mother, desperately searching for an explanation – for some hope.

It was true that the Power of Three no longer existed. Piper, Phoebe, and Paige had relinquished their combined Charmed destiny soon after Jonathan emerged from the Underworld. They had taken Jonathan's warning to heart, and they were not about to risk their families' lives just to stop another demon. Once the three sisters struck the deal with the Angel of Destiny the deal altered the destiny of their descendents as well. Wyatt, Chris, and Anakin lost the power to cast Power of Three spells. And the theoretical next Charmed Ones had yet to invoke their powers.

Piper shrugged, thinking. "But we're still powerful witches," Piper said slowly. She hoped she was guessing correctly. One wrong decision and Anakin could die. "Wyatt, get your brother and sister."

Wyatt orbed without question and was back within seconds with two very annoyed and grumpy siblings.

"Oh God," Prue all but gasped, her anger at Wyatt melted away the second she spotted Anakin. "What happened? Why aren't you healing him?"

"Already tried," Wyatt answered, bending down and squeezing Anakin's clammy hand in a gesture of support. He turned to face his two middle siblings. "We think that he's receiving the memories of Anakin."

"Memories are doing this?" Prue asked, staring at Anakin in disbelief. "He looks like he's been bled dry."

Chris walked over to the open Book. "I'm guessing you already looked through here."

Wyatt nodded. "And there is a spell."

"So why haven't you used it?" half-shouted Prue.

"Tried," Wyatt replied, his feelings of inadequacy and uselessness building. "But it didn't work."

"Because there wasn't enough power behind it?" Chris pointed out, idly flipping through the pages. "That's not possible, Wyatt. You're—"

"Just try it," Piper cuttingly stated. "For me," she added pleadingly when Chris looked ready to argue.

Prue nodded and practically ran to the Book. Wyatt anxiously pursed his lips and walked over, shuffling through the pages until he found the spell. Briefly exchanging glances, the three siblings chanted in unison:

"_F__or those who want the truth revealed,  
opened hearts and secrets unsealed,_

_Those__ now who are in this pain_

_will hear the truth for one's own gain."_

The three siblings glowed and a gentle breeze ruffled the pages of the Book. The breeze reached the couch and Anakin began to glow. The glow brightened until it was almost too bright to look at then Anakin let out a gurgling gasp and vanished with a soft 'pop.'

"_God, it hurts!" screamed Anakin, but no sound issued from his mouth._

"_Not as much as it could," said a mysterious voice, and a blond witch stepped out of the shadows. _

"_Impossible," Anakin's blue eyes widened in surprise. He scrambled backwards thinking this was trap. "You died," he muttered._

"_Partly true," Anakin said with a sad smile. "I certainly stopped existing for a time. But died? No, I wasn't killed by Jonathan or anyone else."_

"_But you disappeared." Pearson insisted, clutching his head._

"_You need to relax," Anakin whispered in a kind voice. "We fight, I know, but this we just have to accept, or it will kill us." He explained it in a very matter-of-fact, unconcerned tone. For all the composure in his voice, he could have been describing the weather._

"_Fight what?" Pearson shut his eyes and ground his teeth._

"_The merging," Anakin answered calmly. "I did not want it to happen this way, but it did. So now I'm here to help you; to get you to understand."_

"_Understand?" Pearson pulled his knees close to his chest, willing the pain to go away._

_Anakin bent down and gently touched Pearson's shoulder. "You need to understand why we are so different: why you need to have those horrors playing in your head, why you need to fight Jonathan, and why you are going to be the one to take the lead."_

"_Me?" Pearson whimpered. "I want to fight, but why me?"_

"_Because you're the only one who will know what it's like to lose your family," Anakin whispered. "Magic fell into a hole because I took the easy way out. We need to fix that."_

"_So I'm suffering because you're a martyr," Pearson muttered. "Great. Just effing great!" Sarcasm oozed out of his lips._

"_You really shouldn't swear so much," Anakin spoke softly, and wryly smiled as he rubbed Pearson's hunched shoulders._

"_Why the hell not?" Pearson butted his head backwards against the cold cement wall. "I'm going to freaking die. So screw you and your high morals."_

"_ENOUGH!" Anakin snapped and the whole room shook. Pearson's whole body tensed as if reeling from a physical blow. "The pain you're feeling? It's not there."_

_Pearson, still catching his breath from the fright of being shouted at gasped out, "What the heck is that supposed to mean?"_

_Anakin smirked. "The pain is in your head. The longer you fight the conversion, the more dangerous the imagined headache gets. Not because it's real but because the imagined pain will drive you insane. I should know," Anakin re-adopted his gentle tone. "I already went through it."_

"_How?" Pearson eyed him curiously, and for the first time, his eyes were not clouded with pain._

"_The Powers That Be may be a bunch of messed up sons-of-witches, but they do get some things right." Anakin slid down the wall and sat next to Pearson. "The day I disappeared, they set me to this point in time so that when you reached it, which I knew you would, I could guide you through this."_

"_So you've done this once already?" Pearson frowned and rubbed his temples, a new type of headache forming._

_Anakin shook his head. "Not exactly, but that doesn't really matter. Only thing that matters is that we get you to a point where you no longer need me before Mom, Wyatt, Chris, and Prue completely go off the deep end."_

"_Why would they?" Pearson innocently asked._

"_Because you disappeared, Pearson," Anakin explained again as if it was absolutely nothing to be concerned about. "That spell I wrote transported you here to this plane. Not exactly the way I envisioned the spell working, but I'll take what I can get."_

"_So they think I'm … what?" he asked, getting worried about his already on-edge family._

"_They think the spell backfired," Anakin began, "and they're working on a spell to reverse my spell. We're running out of time." Anakin whispered the last part, his eyes shut in concentration. He was sensing the events occurring back in the Manor._

_Another wave of pain racked Pearson's body and the blond cringed, but fought against any other outward expression. The pain passed quicker than it had before, and Pearson breathed a soft sigh of relief. "How are you supposed to help me?"_

"_I told you," Anakin looked out into the darkness. "I'm going to help you understand me, what motivated me to do everything I did."_

"_Death," Pearson voiced. "You wanted to end death." He had thought about the reasoning behind Anakin's trip to the past a lot since the Disappearance. _

_Anakin tilted his head side to side, deciding on what to say next. "Partially. I certainly won't deny I wanted my whole family alive and well. But that only affected my decision to come into the past. We had other opportunities to try and reset time, but we never took them. We understood that death is a part of life; I accepted that it was our family's destiny to fight the good fight until it was your time. That was, of course, until I killed Wyatt and Chris," Anakin eyes dropped to the floor and his voice lost some of its formality. "Their deaths are something I would never have been able to come to terms with. I still don't understand why it happened. Wyatt should have been able to stop my attack__.__ Chris could have orbed out." He broke off and silence filled the room._

_Slowly, Pearson began to speak. "Will I know how it happened?"_

"_Huh?" Anakin looked at Pearson, confused. He stared at Pearson as if trying to remember who he was and why he was intruding on Anakin's personal musings. "Oh," recognition lit up the blue eyes, "yes, you will have all my memories, but it won't be as if you lived them." Anakin paused and suddenly waved his hand. A light sprang to life on Pearson's left side. "It will be like you are watching a movie." _

_As Anakin said "movie," an image was projected onto the lit-up wall. "You will be able to pick and choose those you want to relive."_

_Pearson got up and walked toward the wall; currently, a silent home-video quality movie of Anakin/Pearson's fourth birthday party was playing. He reached out and touched the place on the ancient brick wall where Billie was standing, introducing her latest boyfriend to Piper. Pearson closed his eyes to stop the pain of loss from overwhelming him. He turned around. "What happens to you once this is done?"_

"_I'm no longer necessary," Anakin stated. "You won't need a physical manifestation to understand the memories."_

"_So you'll disappear?"_

_Anakin shook his head. "I _become_ you, Pearson. Our lives will merge."_

"_So I'll be schizophrenic, great." Pearson's sarcasm crept back into his voice._

_Anakin chuckled. "Not quite. We won't be two separate personalities, but a brand new one. An 'Anakin' who is still able to be a child, and yet, can take charge without hesitation." Anakin must have noticed Pearson's fearful look; because, he said, "Don't worry about it."_

_Pearson fell into his sarcastic mode, but Anakin cut him off. "WHEN Aunt Phoebe died, we were forced to watch it by the harpy queen. Wyatt had left to help Mom deal with a demon horde in the Manor, and we were left alone to wipe up any straggler demons at the apartment. The harpies hit hard and were somehow immune to our powers."_

_Pearson cut in with a venomous, "Jonathan."_

_Anakin nodded, but did not voice his opinion. "The harpies were immune to our powers and without powers; we were not much of a challenge. Physically, a seven-year-old is no match against the brute strength of one of those bird-women. Wyatt arrived in time to save us from being the next generation's lunch, but he could not heal Phoebe or Uncle Coop. Wyatt didn't talk for a week after that."_

"_Was he mad at us?" Pearson worried, now completely wrapped up in the story that was being projected on the wall._

"_That's what we thought," Anakin continued. "Our guilt, coupled with the incorrect notion that our family blamed us for the deaths, drove us over the edge. We – _I_," Anakin gulped. "I tried to kill myself." The imaged flashed to the attic with Anakin bent over the brass potion cauldron. _

_Pearson gasped, utterly shocked at the declaration. He knew that the other timeline had been awful, but never in a million years had he dreamt Anakin would have even considered suicide. He certainly never thought about committing suicide and doubted even if he had lost Wyatt, Chris, or Prue that he would have gone to such an extreme. Gone partying, doing drugs, yeah, that sounded like something he would do to dull the pain of losing a sibling – but never suicide. Pearson shuddered at the thought. _

_Anakin waited until Pearson's eyes met his again before continuing. He had to tell the story from beginning to end, or he doubted he would be able to finish. As he started the movie on the wall followed along. "I originally was going to just use a gun, but the thought of having Mom see me like that was too much, so I settled on cardiac arrest potion in the Book. Chris walked in just as I removed the vial from my lips. He healed me, and then gave me the pounding of my life for even thinking of suicide."_

"_Chris attacked you?"_

_Anakin nodded. "It scared me to death. Chris had his sore issues, namely his middle-child syndrome, but usually, he was a rock. He cried at Prue's funeral, and then never shed a tear. I guess he decided he had to be strong for Mom or something equally self-sacrificing." Anakin smiled sadly. "But this time he broke down and cried. After that, I swore that I would do everything in my power to prove to Chris that he did not have to worry about me. That I was not another burden he had to carry."_

_Anakin snapped his fingers and a silent scene of Anakin and Chris sitting up on the roof of the Manor watching the sunset started to play. "Do you remember that?"_

"_That happened only a few days ago," Pearson replied, stunned. "I was complaining that he was never around anymore..." He trailed off._

_Anakin nodded. "Well, this was about a month after Paige was murdered. Mom and Wyatt had gone after Balthazar, but Mom didn't want me anywhere near Phoebe's ex-husband, so Chris promised to keep an eye on me. We spoke, and laughed, and I cried. We were simply two brothers in that moment, and it's one of the happiest in my life. Wyatt is the foundation and glue of this family. I love Wyatt to death. But it's Chris that drove me to be who I am. I went back in time because I failed Chris."_

_Pearson nodded slowly, digesting all he had just learned. His future self had tried to commit suicide, and Chris was the one who had saved him. It was a lot to stomach, but he knew he would never take Chris for granted again. Pearson turned away from the screen. "But what about Lucien?"_

"_What about Lucien?" Anakin asked nonchalantly, even though it pained him to even say the name. "He was my boyfriend. He gave up his life to save me more than once. I loved Lucien; I still do."_

"_I couldn't find him," Pearson whispered. "He was kidnapped."_

_Anakin nodded, and his eyes became distant for a moment; the pain was too much. "I know. But Mom said if we're truly meant to be together then love will find a way." Anakin breathed slowly._

"_I never…" Pearson started but Anakin held up his hand._

"_I've had three long years to think, Pearson." Anakin closed his eyes. "And as much as I love Lucien, I can't allow you to make the same mistake I did. Our family is too important for us to choose Lucien again."_

"_But he's an innocent!"_

"_But maybe not one we're meant to save," Anakin's voice cracked, and his eyes filled with tears. "I feared for a long time that Jonathan would kill Lucien. But now I pray that _is_ what he did, because the other option is far too terrible for me to imagine."_

_Pearson then felt a faint tug behind his navel and noticed Anakin's identical eyes light up. "I guess our time is up."_

"_But the pain," Pearson fought against the pull._

_Anakin nodded. "What about it?"_

_Pearson frowned. "You said it would kill me."_

"_True," Anakin smiled. "But when was the last time you felt any pain?"_

_Pearson opened his mouth to quickly answer, but slowly closed it. "I don't know," Pearson frowned. "Thirty minutes?"_

_Anakin nodded as he became transparent. "You've learned all you need to know, Pearson. Now it's time to put it into action." Anakin started to fade, but before Pearson could react the room started to spin around. Pearson took a deep breath knowing exactly what he had to do. Bright white lights spun around him and the world became washed in white for a brief instant._

White diamond-shaped orbs spun around in a miniature tornado. Around the swirling mass stood Wyatt, Chris, Prue, and Piper, all of them anxiously staring at the glowing diamonds. The furniture of the attic was pushed aside, and a triquetra was drawn in white chalk on the floor. The swirling tornado was centered over the triquetra. The white diamonds multiplied and slowly took the vague shape of a man. There was a collective holding of breaths as the lights gave one last glimmer of brightness. A terribly pale Anakin took shape out of the vanishing magical glow and dropped to his knees with a dull thud. He was immediately rushed by his family members.

"You ok?"

"Annie?"

"What happened?"

"Oh, God!"

Anakin smiled, which shocked the worried family into silence. "Mom?"

"Yes, sweetie?" Piper asked softly, unsure of what was about to happen.

"Mind if we get McDonald's?" Anakin's stomach grumbled obscenely loud at that moment. "I'm starving."

Piper laughed with relief; her eyes filled with tears of joy. "Of course we can, sweetie. Do you need anything else?"

"Yeah," Anakin paused, out of breath. He had been trying to stand up without arousing too much concern. His left leg, however, would not cooperate. Sighing in frustration, the blond swallowed his pride and asked, "Can I get some help down the stairs?"

Wyatt and Chris immediately jumped to the task. Gently, they lifted Anakin to his feet and guided him toward the attic door. Prue and Piper fell in step behind, half-giddy with relief, both still puffy eyed from crying with relief. Wyatt took the lead down the stairs, careful to not move any quicker than Anakin's slightly jelly-like legs could carry him. Chris had to give up his spot on Anakin's right and followed directly behind, setting a firm hand on Anakin's shoulder. After a slow progress of a couple of minutes, they finally made it down to the bottom floor of the Manor.

Immediately taking charge, Piper began, "Chris, can you go to McDonald's? Wyatt, go find your father and tell him it's urgent. Prue, see if there's any soda in the fridge."

The three siblings disappeared to perform their respective tasks. Piper helped Anakin into the living room and lowered him gently onto the long couch. She took a seat next to the still frail-looking Anakin. Her motherly instincts in overdrive, she forced herself to remain silent. She knew Anakin, and the best way to get him to open up was to let him do it on his own time. The last thing he would want would be her fussing over him. Piper watched her youngest child closely as he surveyed the room slowly. She smiled inwardly when his brilliantly blue eyes finally settled on her. The sparkle and joy-of-life look was back in his eyes, and she was eternally grateful for that.

"I'm fine, Mom," he reassured her as he gave her a hug and a big grin. In a soft voice he further explained, "I did it."

Piper, dazed slightly by the hug, returned the gesture before gently pushing Anakin back at arm's length. "What was that?"

"I did it," Anakin repeated with a large smile. "I saved my family."

"Annie?" Piper asked softly, eyes widening. She said a silent pray of hope not daring to believe it herself.

Anakin nodded and relief rushed over his mother's hopeful features. "Well, kinda. I'm still Pearson, but I have Anakin's memories."

"Oh my God," Piper whispered as she pulled Anakin back into a tight hug. "Oh, sweetie, we – you – I missed you." The Halliwell matriarch was completely beside herself with joy.

"I missed you too, Mom," Anakin muttered. He turned serious, "But reunion tears have to wait."

Piper, still crying from the joy welling inside, held Anakin tightly. "You just disappeared – we feared the worst. Oh God, your aunts are going to be thrilled!"

"Mom," Anakin said more forcefully. "That has to wait."

"Why?" Piper frowned, not liking the tone.

"Magic's been in tatters since I left," Anakin whispered. "I can't let my happily-ever-after be the world's destruction, Mom. That's not the person you raised me to be."

Piper grimaced torn between her family's happiness and doing t he "right" thing. "Can't we celebrate the one good thing to happen in this world for three years, Annie? Can't the universe give us just that?"

"It will and so much more, Mom," Anakin smiled. "We're all here to make sure it does, but only after I – err – _we_ vanquish the person who started this whole mess."

"We?" Piper frowned suspiciously. "That's very un-Anakin of you to include us."

"Yes, well, I've learned the meaning of teamwork the hard way," Anakin said sheepishly. "Where's Chris?"

"Right here!" Chris shouted, shuffling into the living room under a pile of paper bags. "Next time you want McDonald's, dude, you're coming with to help carry."

"Whatever. Just pass me some French fries," Anakin held out his hand expectantly.

Chris rolled his eyes and dumped the bags onto the table. "I buy all this food and all you want is a bunch of lousy fries!"

Wyatt walked into the room then, followed by a wary and worse-for-wear Leo. The always clean-cut man now had a beard that Black Beard the pirate would have been envious of. Leo's blue-grey eyes showed the horrors he had endured and made him look the age he actually was. The ex-Elder looked around the room with his deadened eyes that fell upon and remained fixed on Anakin. Finally, realization flashed across them. Hoping against hope at what he thought was true, Leo sucked in a gasp of air. His eyes welled and he smiled, still frozen in the doorway.

"Dad," Anakin whispered, equally teary-eyed. He struggled to his feet with a lot of help from his still sobbing mother. The blond carefully hobbled past the coffee table, beaming with joy. He at last reached his father and wrapped his arms around the man, crying as hard as Leo was. "I've missed you so much, Dad."

"I've missed you too, son," Leo whispered, kissing Anakin softly atop his head. His vision still blurred by tears, he looked over at Piper and grinned like a mad man. Piper smiled back, nodding and wiping away her own tears of joy.

Anakin gave his father one last squeeze. He turned around, finding Wyatt. "You took this the hardest, Wy." Anakin shuffled over to where Wyatt stood. He placed a hand on Wyatt's shoulder and looked the older blond his eyes. With every bit of sincerity he possessed, Anakin continued to speak. "You're the best big brother anyone could ever hope for." Wyatt looked away, but Anakin caught the tears filling his eyes. Anakin waited until Wyatt turned back to face him. "Don't let me ever hear you blame yourself for what happened." Anakin eyes began to water again. "The Powers That Be had a plan. There was nothing any of us could have done."

"B—but—" Wyatt's voice was shaky.

"_No_," Anakin firmly cut him off. "I made you promise me one thing, Wyatt. And to the best of your ability, you kept that promise."

Wyatt blinked away tears, wrapping an arm around Anakin. The older blond's eyes brightened for a brief second before steeling over with determination. "Now we can take on Jonathan," he whispered into Anakin's ear.

Anakin smiled knowingly. "Speaking of which," he turned to face the entire family, no longer needing Wyatt's support to stand up straight. "We need to act quickly to stop Jonathan. He's probably sensed a dramatic shift already, and I'm sure his spies have informed him of today's occurrences. If we don't attack him, he's going to attack us."

"But we don't have the Power of Three anymore," Prue reminded everyone. "We don't stand a chance against Jonathan without that."

Anakin shook his head. "We don't need the Power of Three," he explained. "We have each other, and that should be enough."

"But the prophecy," Chris softly reminded.

"Screw the prophecy," Anakin hissed with sudden hatred and disgust, causing most of the family to jump in surprise. "It did nothing but give me grief when I followed it. We're the strongest magical family to walk this earth, and not even Jonathan can contend with that."

Anakin followed his family's reactions. Wyatt nodded his approval, while Chris and Prue mulled everything over. Piper smiled proudly at her children, knowing that they had to do this no matter how much she did not want them to. Leo, the only non-magical person in the room, seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of his recently reunited family going after the person who had split them up to begin with, but he kept his silence.

Anakin strode down the corridor with the confidence of royalty, daring the occasional demon to attack him. Following him and being much more wary of the demons were Piper, Prue, Chris, and finally, Wyatt. They had convinced Leo to remain at the Manor and prepare for any casualties upon their return. Ahead of Anakin floated a small blue orb that cast a brilliant pale blue hue over the illuminated area. The corridor curved around to their right, allowing for the perfect ambush. Anakin stretched out his hand and a massive explosion shook the walls, dislodging dust and small rocks.

"Annie," Piper called out softly. "Shouldn't we be a bit quieter?"

"What's the point?" Anakin shot over his shoulder as he shook the next set of rocks loose. "He already knows we're coming. I want him to know we're here."

"This is no time to act rashly." Piper advised.

"I know, Mom," Anakin continued to walk at a brisk pace. "But this has nothing to do with being rash. The more time we give Jonathan, the more time he has to form a plan."

"So what's our plan?" Prue asked. Anakin had explained enough to stop Piper from pestering him, but he had remained tight-lipped about the entire plan.

Anakin repeated his explosion technique as the corridor took yet another sharp turn. "We walk up to Jonathan and put Excalibur to good use. Then we use the Source vanquishing spell and pray that it keeps him dead."

"And if it doesn't? Chris asked, glaring at a demon slinking in the shadows.

Anakin shrugged. "Then we hope that our powers are enough to wear him out."

"That's it?" Wyatt questioned.

Anakin nodded. "Potions won't work against vampires and the Source is immune to all spells except for vanquishing ones. And just chopping off his head doesn't work; although, it _does_ weaken him."

"Still, it's a pretty big risk to just go in like this," Wyatt muttered.

"If you've got any ideas I'm all ears." Anakin called back.

Wyatt shut his mouth, and Anakin smirked. "I thought so," the eleven-year-old muttered, turning back to the front. They continued until the corridor abruptly opened into a large alcove. Anakin stopped just shy of the threshold.

"Wyatt," Anakin held out his hand. "Excalibur."

"What?" Wyatt produced the sword out of thin air but did not hand it over. "No, Annie; _I'm_ going hand-to-hand with him."

Anakin idly nodded, knowing it would be pointless to argue with Wyatt. "That's what we agreed on, but this isn't Jonathan we're about to face."

Wyatt frowned, but before he could speak, a fireball caused Anakin to push him out of the way. It crashed into Anakin's outstretched arm and the force spun the young blond into the rough rock wall. Everyone rushed toward him but Jonathan appeared from a mass of roaring flames, separating Anakin from the rest of his family.

"Oh, sorry. Can't let you in there." Jonathan smirked. "I think they're going to need some alone time." Jonathan sneered as he blasted Piper into the corridor's arching wall with a simple glare.

Wyatt scrambled off the floor and charged Jonathan, but the vampire caught him by the throat. With easy grace, Jonathan lifted the much more muscular man off the floor and glared into the bright blue eyes with his own emotionless brown orbs that sparkled gold.

"I really would hate to eliminate you, Wyatt," Jonathan spoke softly. "So let's not do anything foolish, shall we?"

Wyatt eyed Excalibur, just inches away from Jonathan's foot; Jonathan followed his gaze and chuckled. "That sword touched my skin once, Wyatt. It won't happen again."

With unexpected viciousness, the vampire slammed his fist into Wyatt's stomach before discarding the blond like a piece of trash. "Excalibur's got a unique spell on it; did you know that, Wyatt?" Jonathan walked around the sword with mastered patience. "Great power was imbued in the very blade as it was forged by the Powers. They hoped that the power they placed in it would keep it from falling into the wrong hands." Jonathan stopped in front of Chris.

"You're going to lose," Chris hissed when Jonathan smiled at him.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that, Christopher," Jonathan smiled, "I have no doubt of that. But you see: I don't have to survive for my plan to be fulfilled. I've had one reason for all I've done since I was abducted: to get rid of the people who failed me." Jonathan moved his gaze onto Prue, who glared back at the vampire with equal venom. "You see, I destroyed the Source and his pathetic Seer: the two who kidnapped me. I killed the old woman who failed to save me from the Source. I killed the coven who failed to protect me. And I killed myself for failing to be strong enough."

"You killed yourself?" Chris asked in utter horror.

Jonathan turned back to Chris. "Yes: that is why I needed Anakin. He opened the portal; he changed the timeline. He was the key to reconnect the two."

"And now you have to kill him," Wyatt coughed out, glaring at Jonathan from the floor.

"Quite the opposite," Jonathan whispered, gloating down at the fallen Wyatt. "Why would I kill some so powerful? I'm not foolish, Wyatt. I do not waste power. I did not feel the need to kill even the infamous Charmed Ones. And the next generation of Halliwell witches is going to live up to their expectations and destroy me." Jonathan looked at Piper. "But not without loss."

He raised his hand and Excalibur rose up into the air. The golden-eyed vampire smiled at his intended victim, who stood frozen in horrified realization against the rock wall. Jonathan flicked his two fingers in Piper's direction and Excalibur obeyed without hesitation.

Wyatt scrambled to his feet, trying to get between the sword and his mother. Prue screamed in horror while Chris desperately tried to redirect the sword's aim. Wyatt was still falling over himself when the singing of metal in the air ended with a gasp of pain and shock. Piper clutched the blade that had skewered her stomach, gasping for air. Slowly the Halliwell matriarch slid to the floor.

"_NO!"_ the three siblings screamed.

Prue ran to her mother, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. Chris followed right behind, cursing his inability to stop the sword. Both siblings were too horrified and stunned to deal with Jonathan.

Wyatt flicked his wrists sharply, focusing all his anger at Jonathan. The triumphant vampire staggered backwards, the wind knocked out of him. Even while gasping for breath, Jonathan chuckled. Growling, Wyatt struck again. This time, the laughter turned into coughing and soon blood started to spurt out of the vampire's mouth. Wyatt attacked again and again; Jonathan stumbled backwards each time. His fury fueled the attack so that even the rock behind the vampire shattered. Only when Jonathan collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath between mouthfuls of thick blood, did Wyatt stop his onslaught.

"You freaking bastard!" Wyatt yelled as he flexed his fingers once again.

Jonathan's eyes widened and he rolled out of the way, no longer so assured Wyatt could not destroy him. The vampire scrambled to his feet, coughing and clutching his stomach as Wyatt chased after him, hurling rocks and other debris with decreasing accuracy. Jonathan turned around once more, terrified, before a whirl of flames sucked him into the earth.

Wyatt yelled in frustration and blew up another piece of rock, tears blurring his vision. He flicked his wrists again, more boulders turned to dust particles. The tears flowed, leaving hot salty streaks down the blond's cheek. "Damn you!" he screamed, chocking on his overpowering sobs. "Come back here, you coward!" The blond collapsed to the floor, all his energy sapped by his anger and uncontrollable grief.

Wyatt squeezed his eyes shuts, tears burning his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. What if? NO! She had to still be alive. She just had to. Nevertheless the tears continued to flow. A scream and the dull clung of metal on rock ripped through his very soul. Too fearful to look in the direction of his family, Wyatt stared blindly at the scorched wall in front of him. If I'd only been quicker, stronger…Annie!

Wyatt slowly pushed himself to his feet, knees threatening to give way. It felt like hours as he crossed the chamber. Chris had vanished, but Prue was kneeling over their mother. He wiped away the burning tears and saw the deathly pale form of Piper Halliwell. Stifling a sob, he bent down and pulled Prue into a hug. Prue collapsed against him and his shoulder was covered in wet warm tears.

The Twice Blessed looked at the bloody hole in his mother's stomach and for a brief second the rage boiled to the surface. He did not have the energy to fuel the rage and it was replaced by a feeling of utter helplessness. The teen gently disentangled himself from Prue.

"K—keep pressure," he swallowed, the lump in his throat making it difficult to breathe never mind speak. "Chris?"

Prue nodded in the direction of a pile of crumbled rocks. Wyatt saw Chris's shaking form. Sniffing, he rose. As he neared his crying brother waves of emotion crashed into his psyche. As he got closer Chris glanced over his shoulder with a furious glare. Wyatt looked away unable to take the look of hatred.

"Help, for God's sake!" Chris snapped before Wyatt could open his mouth.

Wyatt gulped, shaking his head sadly, tears welling up. "It won't work."

"NO!" Chris screamed, furious. "Don't you _dare_ say that, Wyatt! You haven't _even_ tried!"

"It won't work, Chris," Wyatt repeated, his voice cracking and his eyes welling with tears. He despised not being able to help his mother. "The wound was made by Excalibur."

"So what!" yelled Chris, losing steam. "You've healed wounds by that sword before!"

"Yeah," Wyatt nodded, "but those were accidents, Chris. This was deliberate. Only Jonathan can heal her."

"NO!" Chris pounded the wall so hard he broke skin; his knuckles were quickly covered in blood. "Don't stand there and lecture me about Mom dying, Wyatt. HEAL HER!"

Wyatt bent down and wrapped an arm around Chris's shaking shoulder. Chris shoved the arm off and continued his glare. Wyatt wanted to yell, scream, but his did not have the energy. Blue pleading eyes meet angry brown one, and Wyatt turned away. He hurried back to Prue and Piper. The helpless teen kneeled over his dying mother. "Please, Mom," tears blurred his vision. "You can't die. N—not like this. Not when it's my fault." Sobs took over making him incoherent.

Piper struggled to breathe, her body wracked with pain from her gasping breaths. "I – l-l-lo—love – you," she bloodily coughed out her cheeks stained with tears.

Prue looked at Wyatt with red scared eyes. "How do we stop this? How do we fix this?"

Wyatt shrugged, at a loss for answers. He felt absolutely helpless. "I don't know."

Chris stopped staring at the threshold Anakin had fallen through. The distraught witch spun around and fiercely walked up to Wyatt until he was staring the older and taller witch in the eyes. Without warning, Chris spat in Wyatt's face. Unblinkingly, he hissed, "Screw you, Wyatt."

Without another word, he started walking to the chamber's entrance.

Wyatt, still shocked at Chris's actions, started after his younger brother. "Christopher!"

"What?" Chris spun around, and Wyatt could clearly see the hatred in his eyes. "You expect me to sit there and watch Mom die?" Chris was breathing heavily, looking for a fight. Wyatt opened his mouth to respond but Chris yelled over him. "Screw you, Wyatt! I am not going to mourn Mom while she's still _alive_. If you're too chicken to try and heal her then I'll find another way. Or I'll find Anakin, and he'll know what to do. He'll be able to figure something out instead of just sitting around being useless!"

Wyatt's eyes flashed. "Chris—"

Suddenly two demons shimmered in behind Chris. Wyatt's eyes opened wide and he tried to send them flying, but neither demon budged.

Chris, thinking Wyatt was trying to attack him, smiled in twisted triumphant. "See how weak you really are, Wyatt? You can't even toss the runt of the litter around." Chris snarled; he took a step backward and bumped into the muscular demon. The brown-haired witch spun around, furious.

Glaring at the demons, the angry witch growled, "Get the hell out of my way." He tried to telekinetically shove them aside, but like Wyatt, he had no luck in the matter. "Are you deaf?" he yelled, switching to his only other weapon. "I said get the _HELL_ out of my way!"

"No one may enter." One of the demons hissed, staring straight ahead.

Chris whirled around and tried to kick one of the demons, but it caught his leg and threw him to the ground. "No one may enter."

Wyatt ran over to Chris and offered a helping hand, but the younger boy angrily shoved the hand aside.

"MOVE!" Wyatt commanded in his most authoritative tone. The ground shook, but neither demon budged or showed any acknowledgment of the order.

Wyatt tried to blast them apart, but this power too was useless. He looked down at Excalibur, which was still coated in his mother's blood, and gagged at the thought of picking it up. "Chris, we're not going to get through."

Chris threw Wyatt a look that could kill. Ignoring Wyatt's advice he charged, throwing his whole body behind it. The demon on the left grinned. Chris slammed into the demon and was thrown to the floor, dazed. The demon lifted a finger. A violent wind sprang from its pointed finger and sent the young witch flying backwards. "No one may enter," it repeated in the same automated voice.

"Come on," Wyatt pleaded. "Let's think this over. They're immune to our powers and we don't have a vanquishing spell. Jonathan will have obviously blocked any means of magical transportation in and out of here. We need a plan." Wyatt bent down and pulled Chris up, but he angrily shrugged the blond's hands off him.

"Let me go." Chris growled and stalked away.

Wyatt gritted his teeth and left Chris stew alone. Returning to comfort Prue, his thoughts settled on his youngest brother. _Where are you, Annie_?

Meanwhile, Anakin stood up, rubbing his head. When he removed his hand he noticed was covered in sticky blood. "Damn it," he muttered and turned to get back to his family; instead, he was met with a swirling, grey-white vortex.

"Pretty, isn't it?" asked a familiar, and yet, _un_familiar voice. Anakin froze, steeling himself for an attack. "I created it myself," the person continued.

Anakin suspiciously peered into the poorly-lit room; the only light coming from the glow of the vortex. He could vaguely make out the silhouette of a humanoid. Anakin tried to conjure up a fireball, but when he opened his hand, the spark that usually sprang into a ball of flame died.

"Oh," the voice said softly, "see, I thought the only way I could get you to listen without being vanquished was to remove your powers. Don't worry; once we're, done I'll return them."

"Who are you?" Anakin warily asked, squinting into the darkness.

"What?" the man truly sounded disappointed. "I'm hurt that you don't recognize me, Anakin. My brother has told me that we were lovers in one possible future."

Anakin's breath caught in his throat, his eyes widening in recognition. "That's not possible," he lowly whispered. "Lucien should have vanished once time was reset."

"Oh, he did," Lucien stated, stepping out of the shadows, smirking. "But _I _did not. And slowly, but surely, I've been able to remember flashes of that other life."

"Jonathan knew we were coming," Anakin said, suddenly realizing the implications of Lucien's statement. He spun around only to find the vortex still in place. "He's going to kill them!" Anakin lost any form of aloofness and allowed his fear to shine straight through; hoping that maybe a part of the old Lucien was still alive in this stranger before him.

"My brother?" Lucien shook his head slowly, a smile playing on his lips. With a snap of his fingers, dozens of torches sprang to life, lighting the room.

Anakin couldn't help but notice the furnishings were sparse. The corner where Lucien stood housed a single large throne, and a large fireplace in the center. Otherwise, there was nothing noteworthy in the circular room.

"Don't worry about your family, Anakin." Said Lucien, walking around to the opposite side of the fire pit as Anakin. "My brother doesn't need them dead … yet."

Anakin realized he was not getting through the vortex unless he dealt with Lucien. Adopting a cynical tone, Anakin curiously asked, "Your brother?" The blond arched an eyebrow and smirked.

The tone was only a front; Anakin was still very disturbed by the person in front of him. This Lucien had the same frame as the Lucien he remembered. But there were noticeable differences; those were the differences that sent a shiver down his spine. Lucien's happy and innocent brown eyes were replaced by cold, dark ones; even his skin was much paler, with an almost blue tinge. Lucien's smile was no longer warm and inviting, but cruel and bitter. The way he carried himself was like that of a haughty and ice-hearted royal dignitary rather than friendly and welcoming like Anakin remembered so fondly. This person in front of him was Lucien's shell: he had none of the personality that Anakin had fallen in love with.

"Does it bother you that I refer to him this way, Anakin?" asked Lucien. "Because it _is_ true: I'm not lying."

"I know," Anakin sharply replied. "But the Lucien I knew would've never used that term lovingly when referring to that monster."

"Monster?" Lucien laughed. "That monster spared your family's lives. That monster has brought about a peace in the magical community that's not been seen in millennia. _That_ _monster_ saved me from becoming a powerless, love-struck idiot. In my book, that makes him a hero."

"Like I said," Anakin snapped, "you're not the Lucien I knew."

"You're damn right I'm not," this new, unpleasant Lucien proudly agreed. "I'm better than him."

"Better? You're _evil_!"

"So? I've never hurt an innocent. Neither has my brother, for that matter. Every person he killed served a purpose, and none of them were innocent. But I have not even had to stoop that low."

"No," Anakin retorted, "you just get your demonic servants to do it for you." He was steeling himself for a fight, searching for every reason to not love the person in front of him.

Lucien smiled sadly. "I never took you to be one rooted in such prejudices, Anakin. Evil and good are such useless terms, manufactured to allow either side to defend their actions. Actions done by both sides were reprehensible. But under the term 'good,'" Lucien mocked, "they were justified. Does that sound like the sort of system you want to enslave yourself to?"

"It's the only way possible."

"Wrong again." Lucien chided. "Jonathan forged a new path: one where there are no arbitrary distinctions between sides. There is only the powerful and the powerless, and the powerful are to rule the powerless."

"Evil!" Anakin shouted.

"_No_," Lucien insistently snapped. "Not evil. No atrocities have been performed in the name of good or evil since you died, Anakin. Only the actions necessary to enforce this new world order. One where once everyone sees the truth the world will be at peace. No more fighting, no more Grand Design, no more good and evil."

"Now you sound like those convoluted Avatars," Anakin interrupted. "They tried to create Utopia as well. And you know what happened?"

"They failed, because they were foolish," Lucien answered. "They tried to impose their will: their delusion of peace on an unwilling world. They used magic to remove self-identity: self-freedom. Jonathan has not done that; he has allowed people to choose to follow him."

"So the slaughter in the heavens was what, then?" Anakin growled. He had begun to slowly make his way closer and closer to the swirling vortex. Maybe just maybe, he could slip into it and arrive back with his family.

"A necessary ordeal to prove to the magical community just how ingrained these false ideas are." Lucien reasoned. The curly-haired elemental took a step around the fire pit, showing he would not allow Anakin to escape. Anakin cursed. "The Elders held up this ideal of the universe and imposed that on magic. And don't deny that you did not rebel from that."

"It was better than the murders Jonathan has done and will continue to do," Anakin hissed, glaring. "How can you be so naïve to believe this crap?"

Lucien raised a hand and Anakin's hands flew to his neck, grasping at it to stop the gripping choke. "My powers have evolved to a much greater degree than how you remember them." Lucien spoke slowly, and in a cool, calm way. "I can rip the air straight out of your lungs without a second thought. I could drown your bladder or brain with no more than a snap of my fingers."

"Don't threaten me," Anakin wheezed. "If you're going to kill me, then do it."

Lucien dropped his hand. Anakin took deep gasping breaths, glaring at Lucien with bloodshot eyes.

Lucien slunk closer to Anakin. "I have no intention of killing you, Anakin. I am here because I was hoping to save you."

"Save me!" Anakin laughed incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me, Lucien. You nearly strangled me."

Lucien dropped his gaze for a moment, and Anakin noted a flicker of something unreadable pass across his face. "I was sent to persuade you."

Anakin frowned, slipping another step backwards. "Persuade me? Persuade me to do what?" He was almost there; he could feel the swirling air licking his fingertips.

Lucien did not move closer; he stared at Anakin, sizing him up. "You need to join our side. With you at his side, Jonathan would be unchallenged."

"Join you?" Anakin frowned then spat, "Why the hell would I join the side I gave up my life for?"

"For your family's sake, Anakin." Lucien reasoned.

Anakin paled and his knees felt weak. What could they possibly have done to his family? "You wouldn't dare," he hissed, the breath catching in his throat. All thought of escaping through the vortex lay forgotten.

Lucien gave Anakin a sympathetic look. "You are right, Anakin. I have too many memories with your family to hurt them. But Jonathan does not, and he knows as long as the Halliwell line remains, they would always challenge him." Lucien peered into his fearful eyes, and Anakin felt as if he could see straight through to his soul. "I can stop him from attacking _you_, Annie; but not _them_." Lucien fell silent and averted his gaze over Anakin's shoulder. "But if you join him – if you choose to stand by his side, then maybe, just maybe we can stop him from killing them."

Anakin bit his lip and shook his head. "No," he sadly whispered. He knew he could possibly be sacrificing his whole family once again. "I won't do that. They wouldn't want to live in a world ruled by demons. NO!" His eyes burned with tears.

Lucien took a deep breath; his eyes shown with an unreadable emotion. "Then I am truly sorry, Annie."

The elemental raised his hand, gesturing in Anakin's direction. Anakin's eyes widened in recognition of the attack, but he was powerless to stop it. A powerful gust of wind slammed into his chest and threw him into the vortex, which spluttered and glowed yellow as it devoured the helpless blond witch.

Lucien watched the vortex shine brilliantly as the last of Anakin vanished into its mass. The vortex vanished, leaving behind a massive scorch mark on the splintering rock face. The brown-haired elemental wiped away the tears and started walking away from the wall; his choice was made.

He looked up as flames suddenly sprang up in front of him and his brother, fully healed, emerged from them. Lucien inwardly groaned and wished that the vampire would vanquish him right then; it would be better than living with the guilt of what he had done to Anakin.

"Well done, brother," Jonathan grinned and patted him on the back, but he shoved the praising hand off and walked away.

Jonathan strode along with him, smiling. "Don't tell me you're already regretting your decision, baby brother."

Lucien refused to look at Jonathan, refused to give the vampire the pleasure of seeing him so distraught. "Leave me alone, Jonathan. You got what you wanted; now let me be."

Jonathan chuckled coldly. "The world is almost at peace, Lucien; don't go soft on me now."

"Soft!" Lucien hissed. "I don't know what sort of monster you turned me into, _brother_, but I'm anything but soft!"

"Anakin was weak," Jonathan snarled under his breath, glowering at him through hooded eyes. The underworld deserved a better leader than him."

Pausing mid-step, Lucien whipped around to finally glare at Jonathan. "Anakin is twice the man you'll ever be." And with that, he vanished in a swirl of white wind.


	17. This Is A Sin Not A Tragedy

I Write Sins Not Tragedies

This Is A Sin Not A Tragedy

__Anakin flew out of the vortex, crashing headfirst into the back of a massive scaly calf. Groaning, he rubbed the throbbing head and opened his eyes with a hiss to see something scaly and muscular. The offending leg was attached to a sneering demon. Of course Anakin rolled away from the reptilian demon.

Determinedly he threw his hand out to blast the demon, but the demon was already shimmering away. His head pounding even more Anakin glanced the shimmering image of the second demon he had not even realized was there. Alone, he moaned and gingering ran his hand through his mattered hair.

Slowly the blond rolled over, cringing at every jagged edge attacking the fresh bruises across his entire body. He felt terrible and it was only made worse by the feeling of fear blossoming in the pit of his stomach.

But his pain and dread quadrupled when he spotted Wyatt kneeling over someone with long brown hair at the other end of the cavern. His mother was obscured behind Wyatt's broad back, but Anakin knew instinctively that things were bad. His encounter with Lucien vanished as his breath caught in his throat. Shaking from head to feet, Anakin managed to scramble to his feet.

"God—no," he begged, gasping for air.

The lump in his throat grew as he stumbled closer to the group, seeing past Wyatt's shaking shoulders to the sight ahead. It felt as if his stomach turned over and dropped to the floor. Anakin tried to scream, but his voice failed. The lump in his throat was too big; it made it impossible to swallow, to breathe. He did manage a rasping, "Please God— no."

Tears were flowing down the blond's cheeks as he dropped to his knees beside his deathly pale mother. Anakin was vaguely aware of Wyatt squeezing his shoulder, but his focus was solely on Piper. He held his bloody hand over his mother's wound and tried with all his might to heal her.

But healing glow never came; still, Anakin refused to give up. He shook his hands and tried again. He peered into his mother's brown eyes pleadingly. "Please, Mom," he choked through a sob, "I can't lose you. N—not again."

Anakin pulled the sobbing Prue into a tight embrace, never breaking his eye contact with Piper. His mother smiled at them weakly and struggled to nod. Steeling himself, Anakin turned to the distraught Wyatt questioningly.

"Excalibur," Wyatt muttered before Anakin could even talk.

"So?" Anakin whispered, turning back to his mother. With one hand still protectively around Prue, the blond tried to heal Piper again. When there was no change, he angrily cursed. "We've broken the curse before, Wyatt."

"No we haven't," Wyatt countered softly, staring at the ground. "Excalibur has never been wielded by anyone other than Mom, you, and me."

Anakin shut his eyes against the burning tears. He could not give up; he could not let his mother die. He forced himself to take deep breaths when all he really wanted to do was find a dark corner and cry until the world ended.

"No," he firmly shook his head, "He—er—I wrote down the ingredients in the Book. There's a potion!"

"It was erased," Wyatt could barely bring himself to voice the truth. "Botched spell."

Anakin blinked away the tears; now was not the time to lose it. "Fine," Anakin pensively said. "Where's Chris?"

"He's over there," Wyatt pointed to the farthest corner were Chris was still fuming, punching a rock to pieces and destroying his fists in the process.

Anakin took another deep breath. "Jonathan put wards up?"

"Yes."

Anakin cursed under his breath. He gathered himself together and let out a very slow breath. "Prue, honey." Anakin looked into his sister's swollen eyes. "Do think you can slip through with astral projection?"

Prue eyed Anakin, staring at him blankly. Anakin sighed and decided to take a different approach. "Prue," he said with a bit more authority, "I _need_ you to get back to the Manor. Tell Dad what happened. He'll know the potion," Anakin paused, "he'll have to know the potion. Mix the potion and bring Dad back down with you. He may not be an Elder, but he's the most knowledgeable person I know. Can you do that?"

Prue frowned and glanced at Piper, who nodded her approval and half smiled, but the pain visibly flooded her eyes. Anakin leaned in and gently moved Prue's hand off Piper's wound and replaced it with his own. Prue met Anakin's eyes before giving him a nod, her eyes bloodshot. Her head slumped onto her chest moments later, a sign that she'd projected herself.

Anakin gave his mother a kiss on the forehead and stood up. "Keep pressure on Mom's wound," he told Wyatt. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Anakin finally turned to deal with Chris.

Chris jumped when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. "Leave me the hell alone, Wyatt!" The brown-haired witch shouted, but it lacked intensity.

"Can I butt in at least?" Anakin asked, using his best convincing tone. Being the baby of the family, he'd long since learned to use that to his advantage.

"Annie," Chris's drained rage vanished to be replaced by fear, hatred, and loss. "I can't lose her, Annie." He croaked, his eyes welling with tears. Anakin stepped forward, also crying, and wrapped his arms comfortingly around Chris. Chris sniffed, "You can fix this – right?"

"I'm going to try," Anakin said, trying to remain strong, although that was the last thing he felt. He hugged Chris for a couple more seconds before holding his brother at arm's length. "I need us to try a Power of Three spell, Chris." Anakin said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"But we're not the Charmed Ones," Chris replied, looking down at his bruised raw and broken knuckles.

Anakin took Chris's hands in his, which started faintly glowing gold. Anakin let go of Chris's hand when the glowing had faded. He smiled weakly at the shocked look on Chris's face. Self-inflicted wounds were usually not repairable. Anakin let out a deep breath. "We've still got to try."

Chris looked over at Wyatt. "I—he," Chris struggled. The witch blinked his swollen eyes and cleared his throat. "How's Wy?"

"He's been better," Anakin admitted, wrapping a comforting arm around Chris's shoulders. "But you two can fix your relationship later. Right now we need to focus."

Chris nodded soberly. "Ok." But he still did not move, instead staring at his brother and his mother. His breaths were shallow and quick.

Anakin bit his lip. He knew how Chris was feeling, but they still needed to get a move on. Their mother did not have a lot of time left. "Chris, it'll be ok. We'll fix this: _together_," the blond whispered encouragingly.

"Ok."

Anakin gave him a gentle nudge, and slowly the two brothers made their way to Wyatt and Piper. Anakin let go of Chris's shoulders and walked over to the bloodied Excalibur, gagging as his fingers wrapped around the deadly hilt. Holding the sword as far away from his body as possible, Anakin carried it to his brothers.

Chris, meanwhile, made a beeline for the kneeling Wyatt. The brown-haired witch, still sniffling, placed a trembling hand on Wyatt's shoulder. "Sorry," he guiltily whispered in a heart-wrenching tone.

"No worries," Wyatt responded mechanically. He may have been losing his mother; he was not about to pick a fight with his brother. It was an issue they could deal with when all of this was over. The blond turned to Chris and forced a smile, careful not to lessen the pressure on his mother's wound.

Chris took a gasping breath, trying to stem the paralyzing wave of sorrow and fear washing over his body. He shuffled over to his pale mother, trying not to cry. "You c—ca—can't l—eave us." Chris stuttered between short sobs. He softly brushed the bloodied and dirty hair off his mother's face.

Meanwhile, Anakin had made his way over to his brothers. He dropped Excalibur as soon as possible; the sword made a dull thud on the dirty floor in front of Wyatt and Chris.

"Alright," Anakin said.

He knelt down across from his brothers so that he could look them in the eyes; they had to concentrate if they were going to have any chance at saving their mother.

In the steadiest tone he could muster, Anakin explained, "We each need to say a couplet."

"What's the spell supposed to do?" Wyatt asked, ready to grasp at any hope lain before him.

"Destroy Excalibur's magic," Anakin said simply, although he knew it would be anything but. "Or at least temporarily bind the magic."

Wyatt and Chris looked at Anakin incredulously but neither could think of a better option. And they all needed this to work: it was the only thing keeping them moving. The three brothers exchanged glances; all of them despised writing spells.

"I think Chris needs to go first," Anakin whispered after a few quiet moments. "He's the best at spells and the fist couplet is the most important. Then Wyatt, you are the most powerful and can call on the most amount of power." Anakin swallowed, the lump still in his throat, making it difficult to talk. "That leaves me to wrap it all up."

Chris closed his eyes and squeezed his mother's hand. With a calming breath, he managed to think up, "_The sword in the stone, the wound of misuse_."

"_Magic forces now we loan, spirit of elements to tie what is loose,"_ Wyatt followed, equally nervous yet hopeful.

There was a long pause as Anakin stared at his nearly unconscious mother. _"Fix what was broken," _he stuttered between sobs, _"heal is the word spoken."_

There was a small explosion. Anakin looked over and was surprised to see Excalibur floating a foot off the ground. The sword began to shudder and glow. Anakin glared at the sword suspicious, prepping himself to protect his brothers. But suddenly the sword froze and the blade rusted away into a pile of fine orange and brown powder.

Piper's wound started to glow a dull yellow. Wyatt let go of his mother's wound. He focused and his hands started to glow. Without hesitation he directed the healing energy to fixing his mother. A smile grew when he felt the healing start to work and motioned for his brothers to help him.

Color slowly returned to Piper's face. Her breathing became less labored as the glowing died away. But the wound remained only partially healed.

"Will the potion do the rest?" Wyatt worriedly asked, removing his hands from his mother.

"No," Anakin ran his hand through his hair. "That was just a way to get Prue out of danger."

"Her body is still here," Piper mumbled weakly, looking over at the slumped form of her daughter.

"I know," Anakin whispered, a small smile pulling at his lips, but his eyes remained fixed on his mother. The blond waved his hands upwards and Prue's body was engulfed in purple orbs before vanishing through the cavern's roof. "It's a new trick I learnt."

Piper coughed, cringing in pain. She shifted against the hard rock wall trying to find a more comfortable position.

"Mom!" The three brothers yelled out, each reaching to help her up.

"I'm fine," Piper said, slapping away their offered hands of help.

Unconvinced, Wyatt conjured up a pillow and placed it behind his mother's back. With a concerned smile he said, "You always sucked at lying, Mom." Gently, he brushed a stray hair off of Piper's face.

Piper started to laugh, but it was too painful. "Fine, I'm in pain, but I've survived worse."

Chris smiled at his mother's attempt to alleviate the stressful situation. "Why isn't Mom healing?" he asked, glancing at Anakin.

Anakin shrugged, still struggling to figure the whole situation out. "That spell broke Excalibur. Mom should have healed completely."

"Stop fretting over me," Piper hissed through another wave of pain. "The bigger issue is getting out of this hellhole."

"But…" Wyatt started, holding Piper's hand.

"No buts, mister," Piper said in her no-nonsense tone. "I'm not dying anymore, thanks to you. But it won't count for anything if we're still stuck down here. Jonathan could be a along at anytime to finish us off."

Anakin stood up. "We can't bring down the wards, and my new power only works by transporting a body to the person's astral form." He bit his lip. "We're stuck," he muttered. "Unless someone comes to help."

"Someone like whom?" Wyatt asked.

Anakin ignored the question. "I don't have any idea what to do. That spell should've healed you."

"So I have a scratch on my belly," Piper said nonchalantly. "I'm still here. Whatever your plan was beforehand should still work."

Anakin looked at his still weak mother, worried. "No, you're not strong enough."

"Anakin _Pearson_ Halliwell," she sharply snapped. "Let me determine what I can and cannot do. I'm your mother."

Anakin smiled and shook his head. "No, I'm not even sure it would work. I'm not putting you at risk for a maybe."

Piper huffed but saw the determination in her son's blue eyes. He would not change his made no matter what the punishment would be.

"Perhaps I can help."

Lucien whispered stepping out of the shadows.

"YOU!" Anakin rounded on Lucien.

"Wait," Lucien held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Before you try that Annie, listen to me. Jonathan was planning to come back and kill all of you as soon as you healed Piper."

Anakin frowned, still ready to attack if necessary. "Wait," he frowned. "_You're_ doing this?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Lucien asked, piercing him with a look.

Anakin stared into Lucien's eyes and realization dawned on him. Despite the dire situation, they were grinning from ear to ear. "You suck, Lucien."

"It was the only way I could stop you from being killed, Annie." Lucien confessed, glancing around nervously. "Jonathan is going to be here soon. Vanquish the Source first."

Wyatt walked over to Anakin, setting a hand on his shoulder. He was still not too sure about this Lucien. "But we're out a sword now," Wyatt stated, glancing over at Excalibur, now dull and rusted, a first for the magical sword.

Anakin shrugged Wyatt's hand off his shoulder and took a step forward. "We need you, Lucien."

"I can't, Annie," Lucien whispered, looking at the ground. "He's still my brother."

"You have to," Anakin pleaded, moving closer.

"He's my brother," Lucien repeated; his eyes shifting around the room.

"I know," Anakin eyed his brothers, idly wondering if their places were switched could he actually kill one of his brothers. "But so are we, and we wouldn't hesitate to stop each other if one of us turned evil." It was a lie, and he knew it.

Lucien shook his head, smiling sadly at Anakin. "I'm sorry, Annie." With that, Lucien vanished in a torrent of flames.

"Did you truly think I would not notice?" Jonathan whispered dangerously. "I ignore most things, _Lucien_, but try and betray me again and I will kill you."

Lucien glared at his brother. "I just saved your ass, Jonathan. So don't you go screaming at me for what I did."

"Saved me?" Jonathan laughed spitefully and in seconds, his eyes turned pitch black. Lucien shuddered at the change and looked away. "Need I remind you, _Lucien_, that I am an oracle?"

Lucien did not back down as Jonathan towered over him. He stood his ground, readying himself for a fight. "Stop screwing around, Source. I bought you some time; try and do something right for once."

Jonathan raised his hand; Lucien's eyes widened. The Source hit the elemental across the face.

"Brat," he hissed.

Jonathan grabbed Lucien's raising. "You are going to go back, Lucien, and kill the sister at the earliest opportunity. Then you will try and take out the rest of them. You will not come back here until they are all dead." Jonathan's pitch black eyes flashed with angry fire. "Do I make myself clear, _baby_ _brother_?"

"Do it yourself." Lucien spat in Jonathan's face. He kneed the vampire in the groin causing the tall vampire to bend over. "I won't kill anyone for the Source, just like I won't kill my brother for Anakin."

Jonathan furiously sprang from his bent over position and knocked Lucien to the ground. "Then you will serve as bait," the Source hissed, looming over Lucien with a serrated blade before he sliced open the prone elemental's shoulder. The blacked-eyed demon vanished in a burst flames leaving Lucien whimper on the floor.

Once he was sure that Jonathan was gone, Lucien got up from the floor, noticing the deep gash on his shoulder had fused over. Thanking his foresight to drink a healing potion before answering the Source's summons, he snapped his fingers and a Gollum-looking creature shimmered in, groveling on the floor before even fully materializing.

"Begging your forgiveness, your holiness," the creature pleaded.

Lucien forced his face to remain impassive; demons did not like pity. "Your lord, the Source, has requested that I meet with one of the exiles."

"The exiles, milord?" the creature groaned. "But they are _evil_."

"That is precisely why he wishes for me to speak with them," Lucien coldly continued. "Find me their leader. Tell him an old acquaintance wishes to make amends. He will understand."

"Understood, milord." The creature kissed Lucien's boots before shimmering out.

Lucien stared at Jonathan's massive throne. "Forgive me, brother, but I must save you."

He vanished in a swirling vortex of wind.

Back in the cavern holding the Halliwell brothers and matriarch, Chris had taken up pacing around the corridor.

"_Now_ what?" Chris shouted. "We can't get out and no one can get in."

Anakin watched Chris circle around aimlessly in his quest for answers. Wyatt was behind him, busy placing a makeshift bandage on Piper's much still-worrisome wound. He knew there was nothing more they could do. The wards were too well infused with the walls to be dismantled from the inside. But he couldn't give up. To give up would be like murdering his mother: it was unthinkable. And even if that wasn't the case, it was not in the Halliwell blood to give in. They grieved, disappeared, and lost their minds on occasion, but they always fought back. They always came up with a plan. But that last part continued to evade him.

"Can't we astral project out?" Wyatt asked softly.

"No," Anakin shook his head. "The wards have adapted. We're trapped."

"What's he waiting for?" Piper cued in. She leaned heavily on Wyatt but she was finally standing.

Anakin shrugged; he could only guess what the Source was planning. "But whatever he's doing, Lucien's gone."

"Is he dead?"

Piper was concerned; she knew how much her son cared for the elemental even if they had never met in this timeline.

Anakin shook his head. "No, but he's not coming back, either."

"Do you really blame him?" said Wyatt. "I know what you said and ideally, if that ever came up…" Wyatt trailed off, unable to bring himself to say it.

Anakin shrugged. "I can't think about that, Wy. We need to get out of here; attack Jonathan on our own terms."

"I can help with that."

The boys went stiff with alert, hastily turning round and readying themselves to face the new intruder. It was Hellequin, shimmering in with an easy smirk.

Anakin and Wyatt both reacted with identical wrist flicks. Hellequin quickly vanished before remerging next to Anakin. The youngest Halliwell turned to attack, but the demon shook his head, sneering, "Don't think so, Annie."

Suddenly, Anakin's body froze on the spot. Wyatt attacked again, but Hellequin batted the assault harmlessly into the wall. "You really want to listen to me."

Hellequin raised his hand, and Wyatt instantly found himself suspended in the air, unable to move. "Please; I'm not here to harm you."

"Why should we believe you?" Piper growled, struggling to remain steady on her feet.

Conjuring up and chair, Hellequin gently shoved Piper in it, drawling, "Because you have no other choice."

Chris glared at him and Hellequin smiled. "Christopher, please. The more time we waste with this useless fight, the more likely you are going to be the ones in the morgue rather than Jonathan."

Suspicious, Chris pointed out, "Weren't you one of Jonathan's top men?"

"Correct," Hellequin hissed. "But he was rash and impetuous, and made decisions I did not agree with."

"So now you're going to help us?" Anakin replied this time, still fighting against his invisible straightjacket.

"I have my own reasons for wanting Jonathan dead. So long as he is alive, you can count me as an ally." Hellequin released Wyatt and Anakin from their bondages as a show of sincerity.

Wyatt stood his ground between Hellequin and his family. "And once he's vanquished?"

"We will see." Hellequin mysteriously answered. "For now, let's worry about events that are impossible to avoid. Jonathan has studied your magic well," he informed as he walked around the corridor, following the same path as Chris, but at a much more leisurely pace. "This ward is exact, completely directed at blocking all Halliwell magic."

Anakin's brow furrowed as he turned the words over in his head, but Hellequin met his questioning gaze with a toothy grin. "Pity I'm no Halliwell."

The demon's eyes flashed red and a massive explosion sounded, causing each Halliwell to shield themselves protectively. With a satisfied smirk, Hellequin grunted, "Much better. Now, let's hurry."

"To where?" Anakin chimed in, suspicion still abuzz.

"To where Jonathan expects you to go next. You _did_ sense Lucien being attacked, did you not?"

Anakin paled, but kept his lips sealed. "First we get my Mom out of danger."

Hellequin peered at the matriarch. "Excalibur's magic has been broken already. Why have you not healed her?"

"Lucien blocked our powers," Wyatt explained.

"Ah." Hellequin hummed in response and walked to Piper, bending low, face to mask with the brown-eyed witch. After studying her for a good five minutes, he straightened out. "She'll survive an orb. Do it quick, though; Jonathan will be alerted to the collapse of the ward soon."

Chris moved beside his mother. "Don't even start; I know what you want," he addressed his brothers.

Piper closely scrutinized each of her sons. "_Oh_. Oh, no," she scandalously objected. "You are _not_ doing this alone!"

"No arguments, Mom," whispered Chris. "If I don't get to go with, neither do you." Chris closed his eyes. Piper blurted out more protests, but it was pointless. Blue orbs obscured the two witches from view and vanished through the roof of the cavern.

"You know we will need him to vanquish Jonathan," said Hellequin to Anakin. "That prophecy was very specific: _One to be forever overshadowed_. If that does not describe Christopher Perry Halliwell, I will personally castrate myself."

Wyatt and Anakin both gagged at the implication. "Alright, then," Anakin pushed on, "where is this throne room?"

"Follow me." Hellequin furtively replied, only to disappear in the very distinctive red-outline fashion.

"Can we trust him?" whispered Wyatt.

"No," Anakin frankly replied, "but he's all we have."

The brothers orbed out, hand-in-hand, and orbed back in beside Hellequin. To their surprise, Chris was already waiting.

"How'd—"

"He summoned me," Chris motioned to the demon.

"He told me that he'd be here by now," Hellequin murmured, cautiously scanning the room.

"Who?" Anakin asked.

"The one who would never fit in," Hellequin muttered, closing his eyes. "Keep your eyes peeled; Jonathan is bound to have guards patrolling the entrance corridors."

"He summoned you?" Wyatt whispered. "How?"

"No idea. One minute I was listening to Mom's tirade in the attic, and the next, I had his hand on my shoulder. It felt weird, but I don't know," Chris shrugged. "It didn't feel – evil? But when I felt his hand, the evil was washing over me. I don't know about him, guys."

"Well, it makes sense," Anakin thoughtfully said. "He wasn't originally evil."

"Huh?" Both Wyatt and Chris stared at him in confusion.

"He was kind of like the Angel of Death," Anakin clarified. "Neither good, nor evil, but part of the Grand Design. I read the myths surrounding the Hellequin tragedies. Supposedly, he was intended to be a source of great council, show warriors their greatest fears and all, but fell from grace."

"Like Brendan?" asked Chris.

Anakin shrugged in response. "My best guess is yes; he was a Power once. But that's just a guess, and does little to help us."

"No," Hellequin eased in, joining the group. "It doesn't help at all. Now, we need to move."

"What about your friend?" Anakin asked, staring intently at the demon and trying to find motivation from this masked being before him.

"He took a detour," Hellequin replied as he glanced around the room. "Let's not waste the time he has bought us."

"Where are we going?" Wyatt demanded, stepping in front of the anxious demon until they were nose to nose.

Hellequin grinned mischievously. "To my kingdom, of course." Without saying more, he vanished.

"Now what?" Chris voiced in annoyance. "This is starting to smell more and more like a trap."

"I say we follow," Anakin hesitantly suggested. When both of his brothers stared at him with a look that clearly spoke 'are-you-insane' he continued, "It's not like we could get any deeper in this grave we've already dug."

"Ever a ray of sunshine."

Anakin jumped, orbing out from alarm. Cursing, he glared at Jonathan.

Jonathan cruelly laughed. "Hardly the time, Anakin. You see," he waved his hand and the boys startled, eyes the size of saucers as they watched the battered and unconscious Lucien appear in thin air. "I kind of have my hands full as it is."

Anakin's attention shifted away from the limp elemental. "He stood up for you."

Jonathan nodded. "I heard the story. Blood is thicker than water; this is why he is still alive. But brother or not, I cannot have someone as powerful as Lucien walking around causing mischief. Not when I am so close."

Wyatt and Chris took their places on either side of him, both eyeing Jonathan intently. Anakin simply glared. "He gave up any hope he had of having a happy life for you and you—"

"Don't start with the lecture," Jonathan motioned with his hand.

The brothers spun around as demons started appearing in the room. More and more evil creatures encircled the witches, smiling and rubbing their hands together. Some licked their lips.

With his prey surrounded Jonathan grinned. "Kill them."

"Not this time."

Without warning, Hellequin appeared next to Jonathan. The demon smiled at the shock in the Source's eyes before slamming his fist into the demon's jaw. "NOW!" he bellowed.

The brothers' surprise, more demons shimmered in, and suddenly, the massive throne room was engulfed in chaos. Fireballs, energy balls, whips, athames, and other branches of offensive magic flew across the room in mass showers of deadly accuracy.

Anakin was relieved to spot Hellequin gathering up Lucien and placing himself in between the Halliwell brothers and the line of fire.

"He needs to be healed," Hellequin hissed. "Do not fear about the other demons and don't look back. Just RUN!"

Wyatt took Lucien from Hellequin, cradling the surprisingly light elemental in his arms. He protectively hutched over his unconscious innocent and started to run. He scrambled over dying demons and dodged stray athames and fire balls. Demons tried to impede his progress but one of Hellequin's allies came to his rescue. Any fireball or energy ball that he was unable to duck crashed into a sacrificial demon. Finally, he made it into a small quiet area near the entrance.

Wyatt laid Lucien gently down on the ground and was joined by his two brothers. He started to heal the elemental. Within seconds, Lucien looked good as new, but still had not regained consciousness. Wyatt checked the elemental's pulse; Anakin behind him waiting with bated breath.

"Come on, Lucien; don't give up on me now," Anakin whispered, at last allowing his mask to drop.

Lucien groaned, eye remaining shut.

"Please, Lucien." Anakin bent down took Lucien's hand in his. "You can do it."

Lucien scrunched up his face. He moaned. "Five more minutes, dad."

"Oh, thank God!" Anakin immediately wrapped Lucien in a hug.

Lucien opened his eyes and smiled; he squeezed Anakin right back. He looked over Anakin's shoulder at Chris and Wyatt. "Thanks for the heal."

"You really shouldn't scare us like that," Chris said with a small smile.

"Try not to make it a regular deal," Wyatt was grinning broadly. Everything felt right. He now knew that they were doing the right thing – that they were going to win.

A demon ran out of the throne room covered in flames. Screaming, the demon charged wildly at Chris. Chris threw his hands up to shield his body. But a warlock blinked in front of the demon and caught it by the throat, throwing it to the floor. The warlock cursed and was about to heal her hand when an athame caught her in the throat. She gurgled and fell to the floor before turning into a pile of black bubbling goop.

Lucien stared at the remains of the warlock. "He's not completely evil, Annie."

Anakin nodded solemnly and let Lucien go. "But he has to be stopped, Lucien."

"My head knows that," Lucien said, raising his eyes to the ceiling, "but my heart won't budge. He treated me like royalty, Anakin. He really does love me."

"He damn near killed you," Chris pointed out.

"Chris," Anakin scolded.

Lucien waved his hand. "He's right, Annie; you all are. But it doesn't make it any easier. I know what happened to me in the other timeline. He saved me from some crappy situations."

Anakin nodded. "So let's not worry about vanquishing him."

"_What?"_ Wyatt and Chris exclaimed. "Are you serious?"

Anakin nodded, staring pointedly at his brothers. "Jonathan won't be vanquished if we destroy the Source. Let's start there." Anakin turned to Lucien. "The Source will be clouding his judgment. Once the Source is gone, you might be able to talk sense into him."

"And if that doesn't happen?" Chris asked indignantly.

"We'll jump that hurdle when it comes," Anakin stated firmly, glaring at Chris.

Anakin looked into the throne room. The battle raging in the throne room was taking its toll on both sides, but it was clear that Jonathan's forces would win with sheer number. Taking a steadying breath, he led the way back into the battle.

Anakin spotted the vampire Source in the middle of the battle fighting Hellequin with advanced magic Anakin had only ever read about in myth. His awe of the battle nearly cost him his life as Wyatt yanked him to the floor, out of the way of a massive fireball.

"Really not the time to be daydreaming," Wyatt hissed.

"Sorry," Anakin sheepishly apologized. "Just the magic they were using."

"We can do all of that and more—"

Wyatt began, but was cut short by a sudden punch to his gut. He bent over in pain struggling to catch his breath. With tears still in his eyes the witch waved his hand in the direction of his attacker and half a dozen demons burst into flames.

Anakin spun around, spotting Chris vanquish demons with his molecular combustion power. "Overshadowed my ass," Anakin muttered as he watched Chris's tenth flawless vanquish. Chris, following the unspoken plan, was working his way toward the center, to the massive display of power. Anakin got Wyatt's attention and pointed the older teen in the same direction. With both his brothers on a mission, Anakin turned his attention to finding Lucien. His blue eyes finally found the brown-haired elemental. His concern was useless, he realized, as Lucien effortlessly dispatched a large harpy with a fireball.

"_We're going to try and make our way toward Jonathan_," Anakin sent telepathically as he ripped a demon's head from its body in a telekinetic fist. Flames engulfed the bloody mess but Anakin walked through them unscathed.

"_I'll be there in a sec_," was Lucien's hurried reply.

Anakin felt cold flingers grip his neck. The powerful demon lifted him off the floor, cutting off his air supply. Eyes bulging, the teen stretched out his fingers and bolts of lightning leapt from them and electrocuted the demon into a pile of ash.

Dropping to his knees, Anakin gasped for air. He reassessed his situation. Taking a page out of Chris's book, he took to the offensive with the power he had inherited from his mother. Slowly, he carved a path to the main confrontation.

His hair whipped around his head as the sparks of magic and gusts of air tore around him. Anakin watched in amazement as Hellequin wrapped Jonathan in a large tornado of fire. He watched as Jonathan's hands sparked and the tornado morphed into a sphere of swirling water. Anakin ducked the sphere and rose just in time to witness Hellequin backhand a massive energy ball into the ground.

Anakin blew up a warlock and spotted Jonathan sailing through the air. He watched as the vampire be engulfed in darkness and reappeared as a massive golden-eyed bat. Thinking Jonathan was going to escape, he conjured a fire ball but it was pointless. Out of Hellequin's palm sprang a fiery phoenix.

Anakin watched in awe as the majestic bird chase the bat around the room until a burst of pure, white-hot magic obliterated the birds along with half the roof.

Anakin jumped when something brushed his arm. He let out a relieved breath when Wyatt panted, "Daydreaming again?"

"No," he lied. "Where's Chris?"

"He's got a warlock to vanquish and then he'll join us here," Wyatt informed, looking up into the dusty sky. "Lucien?"

"He said he was on his way," Anakin joined Wyatt in his own search for the bat.

"Over there," Wyatt pointed to a clearing patch of cloud.

Sure enough, a bat came into view, only to transform into Jonathan in all his cackling glory. "Is that the best you can do, Hellequin?"

Hellequin's simple hand motion rid the air of any obscuring dust. "I've only just begun, Jonathan. You will regret the day you betrayed me."

Jonathan landed gracefully. "I doubt it, Hellequin. You forget," he raised his hand and Hellequin, eyes bulging, suddenly clutched his neck, "who made you what you are today."

Hellequin, eyes hardening, ripped his hand from his neck. It was covered in black tar-like blood. The wound on his neck spouted more of the sticky substance onto the floor. "You forget who taught you that little trick." Hellequin's skin bubbled and finally settled back into its flawless taut form.

If Jonathan was surprised he did not outwardly show it. "I have other ways of making you bow before me."

Anakin pulled his eyes off the two powerful demons. They appeared to be in a stalemate. "We should…"

He was cut off by Lucien. "So when do we start the spell?"

"We need to get close enough to him," Anakin whispered, now turning his attention to the area around him. Chris had finally reached the crouched group. "But I doubt a crystal cage will keep him still for very long."

Anakin fell to the floor to dodge a flailing Hellequin, cutting off any further discussion. He climbed back to his knees, eyeing Chris and Lucien doing the same thing. He glanced over where Wyatt had been standing; Wyatt was already taking action.

The eldest brother froze Hellequin in midair. With another gesture, the demon was righted. The spell wore off and the battered demon landed hard but at least on his feet.

"Thanks," Hellequin grunted and rounded on his opponent. "You'll pay for that, Source."

Anakin's heart began to pound as Hellequin's entire body started to glow. His ears pounded along with a throb echoing throughout the room. He witnessed demons and warlocks dropping to the floor, clutching their heads and screaming. Realizing the danger, Anakin threw up his shield.

The shield had no effect against Hellequin's power. Images of horrible scenarios played across his mind's eye. Pictures of his mother's and sister's dead eyes staring accusingly at him. The Manor destroyed with his family trapped inside. Looking out over demons bowing to the floor in front of him, evil flowing through his veins. Death and destruction.

Pain racked across his body as if a rusted blade was being dragged across his bare skin. Muscles contracted way past their thresholds causing even more excruciating pain. Time seemed to stop, trapping him in this eternal moment of unimaginable pain.

Anakin watched in horror as Jonathan managed to get off a fire ball. The witch screamed as Hellequin fell to the floor too shocked to realized he was no longer in pain. He struggled to his feet, muscled still shaking. He was going to stop Jonathan.

Anakin glimpsed Lucien reaching out.

"Stop!" Lucien cried out. "Please, don't do this."

Anakin about to reply was surprised to hear Jonathan's hoarse voice.

"Why, Lucien?" Jonathan had rounded on Lucien.

Anakin frozen with fear could only pray. _Please, leave him alone. Please! Don't Lucien…_The elemental was getting up, readying for a fight. _Let him kill Hellequin first. Let him kill me!_

Jonathan did not approach, but his voice grew more dangerous. "…They're next."

"Not if I can help it," Lucien fiercely hissed. He steeled himself for the backlash he was about to incur. Drawing a circle with his whole arm, Lucien surrounded Jonathan in a massive orb composed of the four major elements, each flaring up and diminishing in perfect formation.

Once done, he caught Anakin's stunned expression and firmly said, "Now."

Anakin moved next to the elemental. He motioned for Wyatt and Chris to join them. The shaking witch stared at the spherical cage; Jonathan was raging against his restraints. Anakin squeezed Lucien's tense shoulder. Everything went silent except for Lucien's soft sobs.

"_Prudence, Penelope, Melinda, and Grace_," Anakin recited, taking Wyatt's hand.

Wyatt and Chris joined in with the rest. "_Halliwell witches stand strong beside us; vanquish this evil from time and space_."

An unholy scream rang shrilly from Jonathan's throat, and the cage shattered as a massive magical explosion rocked the entire Underworld. Jonathan's body burst into flames that quickly engulfed him, blocking him from. But his screams of anger and pain ripped through Anakin's eardrums. He felt Lucien falter; the witch strengthened his grip on the elemental's shoulder. The ball of red flames that was the vampire-Source pulsated and grew blinding white before another explosion knocked everyone to the floor.

Minutes went by. Then Anakin pulled himself to his feet, his ears ringing. He found Lucien's hand and pulled the curly-haired teen to his feet. He wrapped Lucien in a hug, spotting Wyatt and Chris also rising. Anakin glanced over the sobbing shoulders of his friend to see the aftermath of the explosion.

His feet stood on the jagged edge of a large crater. As dust and debris cleared he saw a steaming pile of ash. Anakin continued his scrutiny, doing his best to not disturb Lucien. Demons were slowly started to move about once more but thankfully were too stunned to attack.

Anakin jumped when Wyatt stiffened.

"Don't be fooled," Hellequin hissed. Anakin relaxed, slightly. "It won't be that easy."

"What do you mean easy?" Lucien snarled, lashing out in rage. "I just killed my brother!"

Hellequin laughed dryly. "If it was that simple to kill Jonathan I would have no use for any of you. No, he's not dead, but in hiding...or out getting his revenge."

"The Manor," Chris gasped in horror.

Wyatt grabbed Hellequin's hand and the five beings vanished in a flurry of blue lights, only to reappear in the entrance hall of the Manor.

"MOM!" Chris cried out. "DAD!"

"PRUE!" Anakin added. Still, there was no answer.

"Can you sense him?" Wyatt directed at Hellequin.

"Sense him?" Hellequin shook his head. "He wouldn't have been able to accomplish all he has done if people could simply sense him. But I can smell his fear; he is close."

Chris started toward the stairs, but Hellequin caught him by the arm. "I would not do that if I were you."

Chris glared at the offending hand. "Why the hell not?"

"Because…" Hellequin trailed off, mutely grabbed the nearest item off the hall table—a small picture frame—and chucked it at the stairs. Out of nowhere, a massive explosion erupted, sending splinters flying in all directions. With wide eyes, Chris peered over to the grim-faced demon. "You might still want your leg after today."

"So he's here?"

"No," Hellequin shook his head. "That was your sister's doing. Powerful as she is, she still can't distinguish between friend or foe."

"I can't sense them," said Anakin.

"Jonathan will have set up wards against whitelighter powers," explained Hellequin, still vigilant of his surroundings. "He is desperate, but he is no fool."

"So what do we do?" Wyatt was annoyed at just standing around idly when his family was in danger.

"We don't lose focus," Hellequin snapped. "You are no match for him even in this weakened state. Surprise and stealth are all you have in your favor."

"I can talk to him," Lucien spoke up. "I can get him—"

"Don't be foolish," Hellequin snapped. "You saw the truth. You know he will kill you before you even speak."

"No," Lucien adamantly shook his head. "That was just my fear."

"Not all fear is irrational or untrue. Jonathan is not one to be reasoned out of his actions. I tried it once, to my detriment. I won't let you make the same mistake. You saved me and now I will return the favor."

Lucien looked away, but Hellequin forced the elemental to look at him. "Your brother died a long time ago, Lucien. He fought hard; he made sure you had a better life, but he lost. Look at me," Hellequin demanded with a hard look. "You know this is true. Now you have to return the favor. His soul is dying, and only you can save him."

"B-b-but—"

"No," Hellequin softly countered, his tone very un-demonic-like. "The demon is killing him, Lucien. Only by destroying the demon can you save your brother."

Hellequin stepped back from Lucien. The demon focused on Chris and Wyatt instead. "So long as Jonathan thinks he has the upper hand, he won't kill your family. He prefers torture over death. But we still need to move quickly. With Excalibur no longer part of our arsenal, we need to rely on potions to weaken him."

"There is a stock hold of vanquishing potions in the basement," said Chris. "But none of them are made to vanquish vampires."

"They will be." Hellequin took one more look around and settled on the small coffee table as a workbench. He motioned with his hand and the ornaments on the table were pushed roughly to the floor. "Orb the potions here and an athame."

"Athame?" Chris asked as he followed instructions. He had given up a long time ago trying to balance his hatred of the demon and figuring out his motives. They were on the same side at least for now, and they had no time to argue.

"Yes." Hellequin picked up one of the potions and held it up the light. "Impressive. Your great-grandmother would be proud, Christopher."

Chris frowned. "How'd you—"

"Doesn't matter," Hellequin opened up the vial. He took the offered athame and pierced his palm. The tar-like blood dribbled down his skeleton-like finger until it reached his nail. There it collected in a small droplet until it dropped into the vial, upsetting a small amount of the potion. The bead sunk to the bottom of the vial letting off shimmers of heat. Hellequin replaced the cork and moved on to the next potion.

"I am vampire by Jonathan's bite," he said after starting on his fifth potion. "My blood will always contain his blood, just as his blood will mine."

Wyatt placed his hands heavily on the table. Looking directly into Hellequin's eyes he asked, "Why are you helping us?"

"I told you," Hellequin whispered. "I want vengeance."

"Yeah, I got that," Wyatt brusquely replied, "But that can't be your only reason."

Hellequin's lips twitched. "I'm not turning good, Wyatt. But I am not evil in the same way most demons are. I have a conscience. I can think beyond gaining more power, and I repay my debts. Lucien saved me from Jonathan's wrath once, and when he asked for my help today, I could not refuse."

"So when we're done," Wyatt peered over at his youngest brother and Lucien, "will you try and kill us?"

Hellequin shrugged. "Whoever said I was planning on surviving this encounter,? My time has passed, just like Brendan's and others like him. Perhaps this is my way of gaining some redemption from the Creator."

"The Creator?" Chris joined the conversation.

"Yes," the demon nodded. "The Creator, the one who made magic possible. Pity it never worked out the way He planned. Humans are extremely fickle, especially when it comes to power. But that does not concern you. Are these all your potions?"

"All that will make a dent in Jonathan's armor." Chris answered, accepting the change of subject in stride. "Now what?"

"Now, we go find Jonathan. Ready Lucien?"

Lucien nodded, squeezing back when Anakin held his hand. "He'll be in the basement."

"That is what I anticipated." Hellequin gathered the potions and distributed them. "Do you know the spell your aunts and mother originally created for the Source?"

Anakin and Wyatt nodded.

"But it's a Power of Three spell."

"So was the other spell." Hellequin pointed out as he started toward the kitchen. "But you seem to have pulled it off quite brilliantly." There was a moment's pause; the quiet before the storm. "Use it when I tell you to," Hellequin's gaze shifted to Lucien. "All of you."

He opened the door and descended slowly. The basement had been expanded to fit in Anakin's and Lucien's room and Wyatt hadn't had the heart to undo the spells. So when Hellequin reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned around questioningly. "Which way to the Nexus?"

"Nexus?" Wyatt asked, frowning. "Why..." he paused, his eyes widening and said, "left."

As they approached the first door to the left the sounds of chanting in Latin reached their ears. Hellequin bashed in the door and lobbed a fireball at the figure in the darkness, but Jonathan then emerged from the shadows to bat the attack aside with fluid ease.

"You're too late." Jonathan's eyes melted into pitch black. "I've already won."

"Like hell you have." Anakin made a gesture and a hole burst open at Jonathan's feet. _"I am light, I am one too strong to fight,"_ he dodged a fireball, _"return to dark where shadows dwell, you cannot have this Halliwell! Leave my sight and take with you this endless night!"_

Jonathan derisively laughed. "Nice try, Annie, but I am..." He choked, starting to gag. Large, black, cubic particles began to pour out of his mouth and eyes. Anakin watched as they swarmed, heading in his direction, but he raised his hand and the particles exploded.

"Go back to your hellhole!" Anakin snapped, and the Woogeyman began to swirl down the hole he had created.

However, Jonathan recovered from his ordeal. "I'll just re-summon it," he sneered.

"You won't get a chance." Rearing his arm back, Anakin threw his first potion.

The vial broke on Jonathan's chest and a large, circular, acid burn materialized. Wyatt, Chris, and Hellequin were quick to follow suit, pelting more vials of acidic solution at Jonathan. The vampire screamed and hissed, but did not attack. Hellequin threw another fireball and this time, Jonathan could not escape it. It struck his thigh, crippling the vampire.

Lucien stood in the back staring at the sense. His eyes shimmered with tears; his hand griping the potion like a life support.

"Throw your potion!" Hellequin hissed. "Damn it, Lucien: _do it_!"

Lucien stared at his brother, tears now running down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Jonathan."

Jonathan's whole demeanor changed. "Help me, Lucien," he pleaded. "_Please_."

Lucien froze. In that split second, Jonathan's eyes turned pitch black. Before the Halliwell brothers even blinked, Jonathan attacked. The vampire's fangs sunk deep into the teen's neck and in the next instant, Jonathan ripped his mouth off Lucien's neck, taking a sizeable amount of flesh with him. Blood-crazed, he lunged at Wyatt, but Hellequin stopped him by slamming a boot in his face.

"No," Anakin dropped down next to the motionless Lucien. "No..." He started to heal him, but the power would not come. "No!" Anakin's throat tightened and his vision became blurry.

"Now!" Hellequin shouted, fending off a snarling Jonathan. But Anakin ignored him.

"Come on, Lucien!" Anakin angrily slammed his hands on the breathless chest. "For God's sake, let me heal you!"

"Anakin," Wyatt murmured as he came over, "we need to—"

"No!" Anakin struck out at Wyatt. "Not until Lucien is healed."

"Hellequin won't be able to hold Jonathan off forever," Wyatt whispered. "What about Mom and Dad? What about Prue?"

Anakin closed his eyes. "Fine. _You_ heal him."

Wyatt began to argue, but Anakin glared him down. "I want that beast for myself."

Anakin watched Hellequin's body sail across the room before he hit the wall and slumped to the floor.

Jonathan turned around and found himself face to face with a massive fire ball. The fire ball crashed into his face, nearly knocking him to the floor.

Anakin conjured another fireball and threw it at the reeling vampire. The force of the fire ball spun Jonathan around, and the vampire lost his footing. Jonathan snarled in pain and whipped around to reface Anakin.

"You're dead." He said with sure conviction. Jonathan hurled a fireball of his own.

Anakin dodged the attack. "Please, like you haven't threatened me with that already."

Jonathan started to stand, but Anakin lashed out and the cement underneath the demon vanished into dust.

"You've done a lot that I could forgive," he gruffly whispered. "But you nearly destroyed my family, and you nearly killed your own brother. You can't get more evil than that."

"That makes you just as evil as me, then." Jonathan hissed. Then, he punched Anakin in the face.

Anakin fell backwards, and Jonathan was on top of him in an instant. The larger pinned him down. Anakin struggled, but Jonathan was too heavy for him to overpower. Jonathan conjured an athame and brought it down until it was pressed uncomfortably close to Anakin's jugular vein.

"Ready to die?" Jonathan said, gaining back some of his composure.

Anakin paled staring down at the athame. He gulped.

"Like hell he is!" Chris shouted.

With a large gesture he sent Jonathan flying into the wall. Chris threw his other hand out and Jonathan jerked upward, crashing into the ceiling. Dropped hands had Jonathan pulled back down to the ground, bouncing off the solid floor before landing in a tangled mess.

Chris took his eyes off Jonathan to kneel beside his fallen brother.

"You OK?" Chris asked as he pulled Anakin up.

"I will be once his sorry ass is vanquished." Anakin grunted rubbing his neck.

Slowly, Jonathan started to crawl away from the two brothers, but Anakin spotted this and cast a fireball into his shoulder. Jonathan collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.

When he rolled over, his eyes were no longer fiery gold, but fearful brown. "Please," he choked out. "Do it."

Anakin raised his hand and a massive disc of fire formed in his palm. "See you in hell."

"Anakin..." Lucien's hoarse voice cut through the silence.

The boy in question spun around, breathless with relief. "Lucien!"

Aided by Wyatt, Lucien slowly made his way over to an eager Anakin.

Reaching Anakin, Lucien looked down at his brother. "Jonathan, if you're still in there … I love you."

Jonathan's eyes glowed gold for a split second before the brown resurfaced. "I love you too, Luc."

"See you in the next life." Lucien sniffed and took Anakin's hand.

Anakin looked into Lucien's eyes. Some of the hatred and anger at Jonathan burned away. He apologized under his breath.

"_Brothers three, _Anakin started, firm and decisive. Wyatt and Chris joined in,_ "unite in this hour,"_

"_With the magic of Good we invoke,"_ Lucien joined in, turning away as flames engulfed Jonathan. He was smiling peacefully.

"_Rend this Evil from its power:_

"_End his reign in eternal smoke."_

Jonathan disappeared beneath the flames and finally, exploded.

As the spectacle died down, Wyatt transferred Lucien over to Anakin. He moved over to Hellequin's area, seeking to wake him up, but found the place empty. Wyatt twisted around bewildered, searching for the demon no more out of concern for anyone but for himself and his brothers. Finally assured that they were safe, he returned to his brothers and Lucien.

"Come on. We've got to find our parents and Prue," he said anxiously, still unsure how to act around Lucien.

His brothers nodded, but did not move. Chris was busy staring at the ashes that had once been Jonathan, as if expecting them to materialize back into the vampire. Anakin was frozen on the spot; Lucien was oblivious to all and clung Anakin for dear life.

Wyatt sighed and looked around the attic. It was a mess, as was expected. The hole housing the Nexus which, according to his parents, was supposed to have been destroyed was precariously full.

Scorch marks marred the walls with sprays of blood, adding considerable gore to the scene. But what struck Wyatt the most was the calmness that filled the room. Sure, Lucien was still crying, and demon ashes littered the floor, but something had changed. It was then Wyatt realized something.

It was over. The battling, the worries, the constant tightening in his stomach: all of it had stopped. It had taken three years, but finally, Wyatt knew his family was safe.


End file.
